


Art is...

by Iskelan (Zeratul), Zeratul



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Angst and Feels, M/M, Sad Ending, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-06-24 13:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 25,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15632082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeratul/pseuds/Iskelan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeratul/pseuds/Zeratul
Summary: 'I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.' - Michelangelo





	1. Art is… a window to look at the world

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Art is...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15413970) by [Zeratul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeratul/pseuds/Zeratul). 



_You and I, Mirrors of light_

_Twin flames of fire_

_Lit in another time and place_

 

_Two steps from hell - Star Sky_

 

"Keep in mind that I don't have any pedagogical skills,” - cadet Vanto didn't know why he felt need to excuse in front on the alien that suddenly appeared into his life and shifted his lifeplans dramatically. They were going to Coruscant, and he, Eli, as the only one from Wild Space on this ship, knowing the sy-bysti language, was placed to watch over the “Emperor's gift” and teach him basic for next week. Eli had no idea of how to do it, so he acted intuitively, remembering how he studied at school himself.

“Pe-da-gho-dzhi-call?” - the alien repeated the new word with calm interest. His hands were immobilized by handcuffs, able to restrain even a Wookie, but young cadet couldn't stop thinking about how this feral outcast removed Imperial soldiers one by one on the planet's surface and even crushed few vehicles. Eli couldn't stop thinking that if he desired to choke him, he would not be stopped by handcuffs. But, to his amusement and relief, the Chiss truly desired to learn something from him.

“Damn, I don't even know, how it sounds on sy-bisti. Nevermind.” - cadet shook his shoulders, throwing off his superstitios fear, and set beside him. He demonstratively moved a pad in front of him and inserted a datadisk. A group of bright primitive images appeared on screen, among them appeared a title “Thousand of fairy tales”. - “I took this one from junior lieutenant Wheatcliff and I have to return it before we come to Coruscant. He... is going to give it to his daughter, but allowed to use it as a material for teaching you.

“Are these... s'thories used for... _dou'wan?_

“Education,” - the cadet translated. - “Yes. Fairy-tales. Short stories for children, written in simple language. Plots are... far from interesting mainly, but it is a good way to remember some basic words and grammar.”

"Fairy'thales,” repeated the Chiss and smiled, and Eli could sware, that the light of his eyes became a little brighter. “Iths's very intheres'ting.”

"Seriously?” Eli raised his eyebrows. Interest to childish books was the last thing he expected from one of legendary warriors.

“Of'khorse. This is the first... _tah'taiteli_?”

"Art.”

"Fairy'thales is the first art for your children. Som'thing that makes your... i _mgan_?”

"Oh... I think the closest meaning will be _personality_ ,” cadet frowned. The alien clearly wanted to start a discussion, and linguistic divide did not stop him. “I've never thought of fairy-tales from such point of view. However today we need them to improve your language,” Eli opened the list of titles and chose the first one that looked familiar to him. “Here we go. A tale of a Fisherman and a Great Tyrant,” he handed the pad to the Chiss, expecting him to take it, but the alien just stared at it and his expression changed. His eyebrows went down, eyes' light diminished.

"I am sorry, I don'th know these... _bi'sen_.

"What do you mean you don't know letters? Oh... damn, of'course you don't know letters, how can you!” - Eli hit his own face in annoyance. - “I'm such a fool! It's me to be sorry, I should have guessed, that we must've started with learning the Aurebesh.”

"It's allright,” - the Chiss turned his face on him again. Red eyes blinked hawkishly from behind the shade of his long hair, and his lips strained again into a smile. - “You can read for me.”

"There... should be an audiobook mode,” - Eli entered the main menu and faltered, trying to guess in which part of the options was the activation button.

"But I would like to hear your _tse'khab_...”

"Intonations.”

“And your _su'urai_.”

"Emotions. But... why do you need it? My accent is terrible, they won't appreciate if you pick it from me.”

"As'th'scent?”

"Oh, nevermind,” Eli sighed tiredly. Hope to give a textbook to this savage and go do something else faded away completely. He escaped the main menu back to the beginning of the selected fairy-tale. “Let's read. _Once upon a time on the planet Sangui..._ ” he started slowly, pointing his finger on the words he pronounced, but interrupted for a moment – his 'student' was so enthusiastic that he found it necessary to sit as close as possible. Being unable to pose himself comfortly due to handcuffs, the alien put his head on Eli's shoulder in order to see the text better. After few twists he found a point of balance by leaning his forehead into Vanto's jaw. Eli couldn't find proper words to describe his opinion on this and sounded only one indignant cough.

“Is it too hevi?” asked the Chiss so calmly that it became evident that such behavior was not something unusual for him.

"Do Chiss know of such thing as 'personal space'?”

"Som'thing like... occuphied by per'son?”

"Well, you've definitely occupied mine. And it was not... ah, dammit, you certainly don't know this word,” Eli surrendered. He took the Chiss' face in his palm and turned it a little to lower the pressure on his shoulder. - “...o _n the planet Sangui lived the Fisherman named Raw. He was kind and hard-working, and always shared his catch with all the villagers. Fish always came into his web willingly, the locals loved him, and he never knew any sorrows,_ ” Eli interrupted and lifted the finger from the text. “Do you understand everything?”

"I get the point. Will ask new words later. Now I try to remember let'thers.”

 _"_ Allright,” he scrolled the text down. “ _At the same time on Sangui raged the cruel Tyrant. He conquered city by city, country by country, and no army could oppose him. Swords and arrows pierced through his chest many times, but he remained alive, because he had no heart._ ”

"H'art?” asked the Chiss eventually.

"Er... _kohol_ ,” Eli translated.

"Sounds very similar to 'art'.”

"Oh, indeed. The difference is only in aspiration,” he marked and proceeded. “ _Once the Tyrant came to the village where Raw lived. His soldiers behaved outrageosly, robbed and killed the villagers, and everywhere they passed all the harvest died and all the fish fled to other waters. The Fisherman was shattered. He lost everything he lived for, so he started wandering._ ”

"Do your children compre'end such stories?”

"They get the point. Enough for forming their personality, isn't it?”

"True.”

_"He climbed the moutain where, according to legends, lived the wisest man on all Sangui. It was told that he was capable of unbelievable miracles, but he himself never came down from mountains and never interrupted into business of the mortals. However he let the Fisherman in and agreed to answer his question.”_

_"How can the Tyrant be stopped?”_

_"One should pierce his heart,” the old man replied._

_"But... he doesn't have one!” Raw returned._

_"That is not quite right. Once he was a great ruler, full of wisdom and justice! But afraid that his enemies would kill him and conquer his lands he desired immortality, and he came here for my advice. And I told him the secret of invulnerability. He should have cut his heart out of his chest and give it to a dying child. Therefore, blessed with his kindness, it would beat forever._

_"But why had he become the Tyrant?”_

_"It appeared that without his heart he could not understand the feelings of his people anymore. And he decided that he knew what is the best for everyone and desired the unlimited power.”_

_“But where can I find his heart?”_

_“This is simple. Find someone that kind that he does not desire death to the heartless Tyrant.”_

_"And Raw started his quest. He travelled from town to town, from village to village, crossed the mountains and the rivers, stopping everywhere and helping people, and asking everywhere, if they desire Tyrant's death. And everyone replied that yes, and if only they knew, where his heart was, they would immediately pierce it. The Fisherman travelled around all the Sangui and came back to what remained of his village. He was tired and full of dispair. At home he found his mother slowly dying in her bed._

_“Why are you so sad, my dear son?” she asked him._

_"I have travelled the world and could not find such a kind man that did not desire Tyrant's death.”_

_"I have seen such man once. When you were young, he passed by. He heard me crying and asked what happened. I answered that my only son is dying, and then he cut his heart out of his chest and gave it to you. And a miracle occurred – he did not die. He wished us everything good and proceeded his path. And since then you were strong and healthy, and the kindest of us all._

_"That means that the Tyrant's heart beats in me!” eclaimed Raw astonishedly and put his palm on his chest. “Mother, you have to kill me!”_

_"How can I do it? You are my only son. Whom will I become if I kill you?” - whispered the dying woman, terrified by his words. Then he ran to the middle of the village and cried:_

_"The Tyrant's heart beats in me! One of you should pierce it and stop the evil that walks through our world!”_

_"How can we do it? You have always been our friend and always shared with us! Whom will we become if we kill you?”_

_Then he came to the gates of one of the fortresses, occupied by the Tyrant's army, and threw a stone in them. The guards shot him without looking. The arrow pierced through the heart of the kind Fisherman, and at that very moment the ruling of the Tyrant on Sangui came to its end._

Eli sighed out heavily. Being too drowned into reading, he completely forgot that he had a listener, and remembered only when the Chiss moved his head away from Eli’s shoulder, after seeing that the fairy tale ended.

“Oh, you… forgive me, I was carried away by the story, and you must have missed half of the words.”

“I believe it is not the first time you read this fairy’thale,” - said the Chiss quietly, and it seemed that his accent became not so noticeable. - Why did it make you so sad?

“Sad? No, it’s…” Eli malaxed his shoulder, feeling only now, how numb it was. “When I was a child, I never understood how terrible it was.”

“T’rrible?”  
  
“ _Mol’kori._ No. _Il’kori._ ”

“And what did you see in it at first time?”

“That you should be kind, but sometimes… be ready to fight the evil. Maybe. It looked so plain and simple for me in childhood. And now I think, that two people, able to change the destiny of that world, died, and it remained at the edge of distruction,” Eli frowned at the list in front of him and turned off the screen. He never reread those things, that used to be called fairy tales for children. “I wonder, if all the other stories are so terrible…”

“I remembered most of the let’thers and can try to read myself. Your voice is tired. I thank you for your help. Forgive me for the unple’sent discovery you had to make.

“It’s allright. Delusion is a good thing. Damn, you’ve just climbed off the tree and hardly speak Basic, but you make me think of things I never cared about!”  
  
“You don’t like it?”   
  
“Better to say it’s very… unusual.”

“I wanted to ask. Did you choose this fairy’thale because the name of the main character sounds like mine?”  
  
“Your name?” Eli exclaimed, like he was shocked by the fact that this stone that crooked the peaceful flow of his existance had a name. He unconsiously threw it away from his memory, hoping that he’d never have to pronounce it, because by the end of this week “the Emperor’s gift” should arrive to Coruscant and disappear for him forever. Now he felt ashamed, while catching himself on a feeling that reading the story from his childhood and the talk itself were somewhat exiting, and the faceless scary Chiss ceased being so and transformed into a suddenly interesting companion. “I’m sorry, but I forgot how it sounds.”

“Mitth’raw’nuruodo. Thrawn - for your convenience.”

“Oh, indeed, sounds much like Raw,” Eli smirked and looked at the alien anew. As he was now - dirty, long-haired, in ragged clothes, - he could play well the role of the fictional Fisherman that travelled the world in his search for kindness.  
  
“I was talking about the Tyrant,” the Chiss bowed his head and smiled. “However…” he put his finger on his chin, “I think they both are one per’son that wished to live two different lives, by separating his heart from his mind.”

Eli opened his mouth in amazement. The alien discovered new sense of the fairy tale so easily that it completely tangled his thoughts. Task of teaching him Basic turned into a discussion of art, piercing through generations of their civilizations, hidden in tales for children, possessing deep treasure of senses and subsenses, interwining with variations of a single story.

“Now you’ve made this fairy tale even more terrible,” cadet breathed out and covered his face with his palm.

“You intended to say - more complicated.”

“I thought I was teaching you Basic. And, by the way, Tyrant is not a name.”  
  
“How interesting. And what does it mean?”   
  
“We use this word to name rulers that abuse their power. I don’t know whether there is such term in sy-bisti.”   
  
“And is your Emperor - a Tyrant?” the Chiss asked, and his voice remained calm. Eli frowned again. Spending all his life at the age of the Galaxy, he never cared for people in power.   
  
“I’ve never asked myself such questions. And I don’t think you should.”

“Looks like the answer is ‘yes’.”


	2. Art is... a crossroad where mathematical order meets the initial chaos

__

 

 _Make me feel the warm, make me feel the cold_  
 _It's written in our story, it's written on the walls_  
 _This is our call, we rise and we fall_  
 _Dancin' in the moonlight, don't we have it all?_  
  
_Lost Frequencies feat. Janieck Devy — Reality_

 

Eli was hoping that he wouldn’t be anywhere near Thrawn at the moment he gets free off his handcuffs. He was hoping that he would be far far away from Coruscant when the Emperor decides the destiny of his exotic gift. However, the blue-skinned savage not only preserved all his self-confidence in front of unknown ruler, but dared to ask him for a favor.

 

“I just can’t believe it! No… this can’t be real, I must be dreaming!”

 

He was sitting on a shuttle bench, pressing his palms against his temples. Such straight and clear life-plan that he followed without any declinations before recent events was already disturbed enough because of prolonged practices on the Strikefast. Now all his plans were ruined by something as simple and impassable as the will of the Emperor himself, and Eli couldn’t stop being angry.

  
Chiss was sitting nearby in silence, from time to time either rubbing the abrasions on his wrists, or stroking his hair, still sticking out in all directions in a ridiculous crew cut. Now, after being washed and dressed in the uniform, he looked no more like a savage and did not cause any primal fear, but Eli recalled very well, how easily he killed well-trained Empire soldiers with almost bare hands. How easily he could kill himself, but for some reason did not.

  
“Thrawn, why did you do this? I don’t believe, that on all the huge Coruscant they wouldn’t find you a sy-bisti specialist! Damn, why, of all things in the world, you’ve asked the Emperor for… me!   
  
“I’m satisfied with your pedago’dzhi’call…”

  
“Pedagogical. You know, why I was one of the best at school, why in the beginning I was recommended on Mayomar? I am born to be a book-keeper, you see?” he bowed and looked Chiss into his face. He returned a glance and smiled, like he was having fun of his annoyance. “I love numbers! Counting delivery documents, filling and comparing tables, analyzing the dynamics…”

 

“But you know sy-bisti.”

  
“Oh, on Lysatra you hear it from the craddle, that doesn’t count. So, I’m trying to say, that I am as infinetely far from linguistics, as the Imperial Center from your homeworld!”

  
“I like your act’scent. Your tongue makes sounds soft. When you speak, you’re like whispering small stones in the water.”

 

“A very poetic way to say ‘you sound like you’re chewing sand’”

 

“And also I like the way you pronoun’se the word ‘art’”

 

“Art?” Eli frowned in amazement. “Oh god, do I have problems even in such a short word?”

 

“I’d love to hear, how the others pronoun’se it. You speak it like a rapturous breath. Resh melts in long opened Aurek, and after a short moment of silence you add a very quiet Thesh.

 

“Oh, nice, you’ve learned the letters,” Eli looked aside, feeling awkward, that here and now all the Chiss’ elocution was addressed to him. It was not the first time Thrawn accented his attention on his person, and it was more difficult to get used to than other oddities in his behavior. “But there’s Trill. Thesh is a softer sound. Something in between Trill and Sens.

  
“Oh, I see. Thesh is the first letter of my short name, and Trill is the end of ‘art’.”

  
“The end of art,” Eli couldn’t help smiling. “You make even simple phrases sound odd.”

 

“Do I make mistakes?”

  
“No, it’s… just unusual. Language allows variativity of providing the same information. And with your manner of speech everything like… gets double sense. It never happens to numbers. They will never cheat on you or tangle you.”

  
“Until the moment you start to include the matters of infinite multh’itude into equations, allowing math’matics to broaden beyound limits of exact science and enter the range of… _onokh’soli_.

  
“Philosophy?” cadet Vanto opened his mouth. He never heared of such areas of math neither on Lysatra, nor on Mayomar.

  
“Near the borders of Ascendancy there is a planet Logora,” the Chiss moved closer to him, bowed, leaned with his hand on the bench and almost touched the shoulder of his neigbour. His permanent invasions in personal space were already something Eli got used to back on Strikefast, so he didn’t try to keep away. “It’s something like a… colony of th’sinkers hermits, willing to give thems’selves into pure science. Many of them love numbers and equathions that much that preach them as the essense and the beginning of every thought, and the concept of art they see as the crossroad of math’matical order and the initial chaos,” Thrawn paused, observing the changes in cadet’s face. “I thing they’d eval’luate your talent to feel numbers much higher and worthier than the supply depot.  

 

“You… you’re doint it again,” Eli shook his head after almost a minute of being petrified, imagining a group of wise old men, writing mathematical functions instead of religios texts, building fractal cities and devoting him into their misteries on some very ceremonial meeting.

 

“Doing what?”

 

“Catching me into the web of your words. Talking of interesting things and making me think of anything, but the thing I really asked!”

 

“Oh I haven’t yet mentioned the math’matical linguistics. I’ve never studied it deeply, but some known principles of it are success’fully applied to teach languages by my people. Who knows, maybe your intuitive understanding of it may allow you to structurize my education more effectively.

  
“Thrawn!” Eli jumped off the bench and fiercely glared at his big blue-skinned problem, which was going to remain at his neighbourhood for at least three more month. “Damn it, who in the world are you to intrude into my life like that? Whatever you say, however you turn the meanings of everything I knew - this is not the part of my life plan!”

  
“Forgive me, but the decision is already made, and your emotions won’t change the fact you’ve passed the point of no returm,” corners of Chiss’ lips lowered. “I only wish to give you the oppor’tunity to see something else than problem in my existence. It would be very sad, if your anger turned you into my enemy.”

 

“Me - your enemy?” Eli spitted out a nervous chuckle. “Oh, no, I’m not insane. I’ve seen what you’re capable of, and I wouldn’t like to stand in your way in any role,” he gulped, thinking again of how many different kinds of slow and painful deaths could be caused by these hands.

  
Thrawn observed his motions silently for a few seconds, then sighed, lowered his eyesight and folded his hands. This time was enough for Eli’s heartbeat to return to normal, and his flash of anger to melt. Now his cheeks were burning with shame of his behavior.

 

“And how about - standing by me?” asked the Chiss and stared at him again. Red light of his eyes became a little brighter.

 

Eli breathed in in amazement. Again Thrawn was using the words in such way that it seemed, that they had some additional meaning, but Eli casted this thought away, relating it to lack of alien’s experience in the Basic.

 

“Looks like for the moment it’s the best choice I have,” the cadet raised his hands in capitulative gesture and set back to the bench beside him, trying not to look at him anymore. “Of’course, there are many other outcomes, but the probability theory tells, that I’m not likely to be more lucky, than I am now.”


	3. Art is... a battle you win in your mind

__

_If you go_  
If you go your way and I go mine  
Are we so  
Are we so helpless against the time?  
Baby, every doubt of history  
Knows that we're in love with defeat  
Are we ready to be swept off our feet  
And start chasing every breaking wave?  
  
U2 — Every breaking wave

 

Everything could have ended yesterday. This thought kept rolling nonstop inside Eli’s head for all the last day. In Deanlark office, while Thrawn cool heartedly decided the destiny of the attackers, before the sleep and during the breakfast time. Everything could have ended, but at the last moment something triggered inside young cadet and made him interfere.

 

Along with these thoughts before his eyes were standing dark bruises and scratches on Chiss’ blue skin that he didn’t find needed to be processed with bacta. Legendary warrior was strong indeed, but he wasn’t invulnerable. His body obeyed the same laws, as for the other living beings. He also could be damaged and broken. And he also could get hurt.

 

Eli gulped - he had never been in a real fight. After training battles he got only light hits, and his pain never exceeded the range he could ignore. Thrawn remained very calm after the incident, but Vanto eventually witnessed, how he stopped for a moment and touched the big bruise on his chest side, while he was bending to wear his shoes. His pain limit should have been much higher, but still he was hurt, and realizing this fact made Eli terribly ashamed. Ashamed of his coward egoistic intentions that made him ready almost to allow Thrawn to be beaten even more, and that almost turned him into a counterpart of the violence.

 

“Eli, what are you thinking of?”

 

“Uh?” He lifted up his eyes to look at Chiss’ face and put them down again after noticing a swollen bruise on his cheekbone.

 

“You’ve been stirring your cereals for three minutes already, but not eating.”

 

“Damn,” he made himself eat few spoons, but it was really hard for him.

 

“Is something wrong?” Usually calm Chiss’ voice filled with light tones of worry. Vanto got used that he never expressed his emotions too bright, and after couple of month in the Imperial Academy he learned to notice them in those rare moments when they showed up. Most likely they were betrayed by the accent that became much more noticeable, when Thrawn concentrated on self-control too hard. “Did you h’urt yourself when I pushed you?

 

“Seriously?” Eli frowned. “You’ve been done over, and you worry about me?”

 

“A warrior should adequately estimate the reso’rces of either enemy, either ally.  You don’t possess your body well enough, and now you refuse to give it the needed amo’nt of calories.”

 

“I am fine,” he demonstratively put one more portion of proteins mass into his mouth, but studded spasms of swallowing muscles made him caugh hard and almost choke. Thrawn proceeded staring at him attentively, patiently awaiting him to fight over his reflexes and swallow the food. He himself finished his breakfast long ago.

 

“Even if the state of your body is satisfying, something is…  _ nishuan _ you.”

  
  


“I just keep thinking of that yesterday everything could have ended,” Eli murmured darkly and put his spoon on the table, forgetting to tell the translatin of the word in sy-bisti. Chiss’ stubbornness was as infinite as hi eloquence, and he realized long ago that it was useless even to try to avoid answering him. He also realized that Thrawn accepted any unpleasant truth from his mouth as calmly, as yesterday’s fight. “And that part of me would be happy if you were…” he bite his lip, feeling blood flushing to his cheeks. He couldn’t stand it and hid it in his palms, knowing that Thrawn was capable of finishing his phrase without him.

 

“However, despite all your doubts, you came to assist me.”

 

“Don’t get me wrong, Thrawn,” Eli looked into his eyes with irritation. “I would be undoubtedly glad to return to my old life plan, but it’s repulsive even to think that someone should become disabled for this. Especially you,” his voice became softer. “You never did anything bad to me. Just pulled me out of my comfort zone - but you shouldn’t be killed for that, aren’t you?

 

“History knows cases of killing even for the less,” Thrawn smiled broadly with one of those smiles that fullfilled his speech more than demonstrated any emotion, and at the same moment he winced, when the edge of his lip raised the damaged cheek too much. “But you’re not of that kind. Of dozens of opportunities to betray me you haven’t used a single one, and that means, you’re not going to try.”

 

“You speak so sure,” Eli chuckled, feeling a relief. Thrawn didn’t even think of blaming him - on the opposite, he was satisfied that he predicted his behavior perfectly.

 

“In one of the books on the art of war an ancient thinker of Khang people said: If the warlord is able to win any battle in his mind - he’d reached the perfection. A warrior should see few steps further, be capable of playing the most likely variations of events,” Thrawn locked his hands on the table. “I was expecting us to get into another trap on our way from the first one. Also I expected you to hesitate, but in the end to decide to come and assist me right when it was needed the most.”

 

“So you mean,” Eli narrowed his eyes sceptically, “that in the art of war you’ve reached perfection?”

 

“No one can reach it - the world is functioning in such way that there is always a possibility of some uneks’pected circumstances that even the most experienced warrior can not adapt. Thinker that wrote that book lost many battles despite all his wisdom and vision. I reach for perfection, but I am yet much far away from understanding motives, that move humans,” he smiled again, and now pain didn’t reflect on his face in any way. “And I am glad that I was right to choose you as an ally.”

 

“I’m not a very useful ally. I am nothing as fighter, and speaking about art of war,” Eli laughed in embarrassment to the thought that anyone could imagine him on a battle station. Even someone as weird as Thrawn. “My talents are infinitely far from it.”

  
  


“I see great potent’sial in you, Eli - not only considering war. And as long as I can stay by your side,  I hope to teach you to see it too.”

 

“Well, you have more than a month,” Eli shook his shoulders, and something made him disbelieve that it could end so easily.

 

“Considering my knowledge of your personality - this is not enough,” Thrawn’s voice sounded with remarkable grief. His facial expression became impossible to red again. “True masterpieces require years to create them.”

 

“Oh no, don’t even think of it. It’s very interesting to chat with you, but after the Academy I hope to say goodbye,” Eli raised his hands in protesting gesture. “You speak basic perfectly, you don’t need me!” He tightened his lips and put his hands back to the table, lowering his shoulders. “While my family does, on a place made ready for me!”

 

“To apply your talents to counting your father’s profits,” Chiss lowered his eyebrows and light of his eyes faded a little. “Don’t you yourself find it boring?”

 

Eli opened his mouth, but didn’t say a word to express his indignation. Thrawn did it again, and Eli war petrified, terrified by himself, by the very fact that almost like yesterday one part of him desired to release on coast of the other’s suffering, the other part of him was ready to say “yes”.


	4. Art is… a balance you find within yourself

 

_When I'm gone_  
You will be someone new,  
You will see the stars come out,  
You won't feel the pain, I've caused, at all.  
  
Hurts «Guilt»

 

Eli didn’t know why he was here. Thrawn assured him that he never asked the Emperor to keep the translator with him after the Academy, but neither this, nor any other arguments like the use of two officers, knowing sy-bisti, onboard of a patrolling cruiser near Wild Space, could not chill his anger for the alien, not only now having higher rank than him, but being his man in charge. There were almost no missions here, and at the only diplomatic interraction occured during this month Thrawn was showing off his elocution so that Vanto didn’t have a chance to put in a word. And the feeling that the time of his life is flowing in vain was only growing. 

Now they were patrolling an abandoned trade route, checking possible smugglers activity, and Eli had only approximate idea, in which sector of the Galaxy they were. Lysatra was far away, and once light and clear his future seemed even further.

Feeling of indefinition, grinding him from the inside, was heated by often calls of his family. The Vanto couple demonstrated its displeasure at the very day he graduated from the Academy, and now considered its duty to remind of it every free minute their son spared for a talk with them. As a result, Eli used any possibility to make the amount of these minutes less and less. That only increased the displeasure of his family, and insoluble straining increased within young ensign.

“Son, where are you now? Maybe you can finally fly in home for a descent conversation?”

“We’re like six hundred parsec from Lysatra, maybe less. Not too far, but it won’t work to “fly in”. Even if I take a week off and ask for a shuttle,” Eli laughed to the holoprojection of his father, satisfied by the fact that his old man can’t see his fists, tightened behind his back. “No, seriosly. Not with my rank and money.”

“I can’t believe you’ve stepped into it,” disappointed sigh could be heared even through the static.

“Dad, who am I to doubt the will of the Emperor?”

“And who is this alien to be in the Emperors favor?”

“I’ve told many times already,” the ensign’s voice betrayed him. “I cannot change anything. More than that, even Thrawn cannot change anything,” he said more emotionally than he was going to. Thrawn promised him to consider finding him some better application when he reached the rank of a Grand Admiral, and now these words sounded as some bitter joke in his memory. The words “alien” and “Grand Admiral” couldn’t stay together in one sentence. Not in this Empire.   
  
“Charming. Do you realized, that not only breaks your career, but harms all our family… maybe even all Lysatra!”

“Dad, don’t start. You’ve asked - I’ve answered. I won’t fly in for a holiday,” he spitted out, hoping his father would see his mood and won’t try to say anything else. Then, after a second of silence, observing his old man’s silent anger that allowed him to realize full grade of his guilt, he breathed out heavily and added. “Hug mom for me. End transmission.”

The hologram faded without a goodbye, and Eli allowed himself to exclaim his restrained annoyance with a long roar. He covered his face with his hands and scratched it with his nails, putting his forehead against the cool surface of the console.   
  
“God damn that Chiss,” he murmured, breathed out and lifted from his place with an intention to go to the refresher to cool down a little. When he turned around he almost knocked into Thrawn that came back into their quarters and appeared right behind his back. Eli jumped aside, almost fell on the console, and sweared out. Leutenant as always came without making a sound, and Eli couldn’t know which part of the conversation he could have heard - his face was smooth and calm as usual.

“I am sorry for making your life so complicated, ensign.”

“Oh leave it. You’re not sorry,” Eli growled on the wave of growing anger. “You just reach for your goals and you don’t think of how it reflects on the others,” he went on attacking, forcing Thrawn to step back to the middle of the room. In rage he grabbed the collar of his uniform and pulled him down to make their faces be on one level - his anger destroyed from his minds all the remants of caution in front of the stronger opponent. Thrawn remained silent, his face didn’t change. His almost unnatural tranquility maddened Eli even more. “You are the reason I’m stuck here instead of doing the things I can do the best, and for all people around us I will forever be an appendix to odd alien that noone is happy to see anywhere! You say you’re sorry, but in fact you don’t care about my feelings, and about my opinion, while you read them perfectly well!” Eli yelled the last words, and the sound of his own voice made him come back to his senses. He blinked a few times, realizing that Thrawn’s face was only few centimeters from him. Chiss’ eyes were burning brightly, and their light, reflected from ensign’s skin, threw red highlights on his face. There was neither warning, nor threat in his look, and an inappropriate thought blinked through Eli’s mind that right now the alien that broke his life seemed beautiful to him.

He unclenched his palm, holding the collar of Thrawn’s uniform, and lowered his eyes. Anger that passed through its highest peak now was falling into terrible shame.

“Sorry… sir,” he breathed out and gulped, realizing one by one all the possible consequences of his emotional splash. Now Thrawn had all the reasons to give a report on him and throw him out of this ship, and even out of the Imperial Navy, and this turn of his career would be only on his responsibility. Blood flushed away from his reddened face, and his heartbeat started knocking heavily in his temples.

“I read them, of’course,” Chiss’ fingers took Eli’s palm that was still lying on the tissue of his uniform. Eli shrinked, awaiting any aggressive responce, but Thrawn only took his hand and gently stroked the back of it with his finger tips. That was weird, but it started tranquilizing him. “And now I read pointless aggression. And the reason of it is not me, but your father,” he put the other palm at his wrist and softly pressed it few times with his thumb. Eli opened his mouth, focusing on Thrawn’s actions, vainly trying to understand their sense, but he failed, so he just allowed Thrawn to proceed. “He also has his goals, and he considers you as a personal instrument. Out interests crossed, and he lays all the responsibility on you for things you cannot control, making you feel bad and hate the situation you’re in and me in particular for partly being the reason of it. These emotions will bring you nothing, but harm.”

“These are emotions, Thrawn,” Eli frowned, but at the same time he marked that the heavy feeling in his chest started to fade away and his eyesight became more clear. “I can’t just stop… feeling them.”

“You cannot effect the circumstances that cause them. But you can stop them from controlling you,” Thrawn smiled softly, not moving his attentive eyesight from his face, and put his hands on Eli’s shoulders, gently pressing them. Somehow this soft touch made muscles of his back relax a little, and the allowed Thrawn to lead him to the bed and make him sit on the lower bench.

“And now you’re going to tell me, that some race has an art of anger management, aren’t you?” Eli breathed heavily and lifted his eyes. Thrawn laughed quietly. Eli couldn’t help smiling also, admitting that Chiss really managed to tranquil his waves of rage somehow.

“Not quite,” he put his palms on ensign’s head, putting his fingers into his hair and softly clenched them on his nape. That move summoned a wave of pleasant shiver through Eli’s body that melted somewhere under his skin. “I would say, it is a logical approach, considering the change of your attitude to situation. Right now your attitude is dictated by your father. By forming your own adequate approach you could come to appreciate it more calmly.”

“It’s easy for you to speak so, Thrawn,” Eli chuckled. “You are not betraying the hopes of your own family.”

The Chiss frowned and lifted his eyebrows. His eyes flashed brighter, and Eli felt that he’d said something wrong. He forced himself to distract from his own problems and repeated his words in his mind, realizing how stupid they were. Thrawn was an outcast, and that meant that he failed not only his family, but all his people. However he still thought he was doing everything right and behaved as if he never regretted his choice. But Eli couldn’t know what were his real feelings, as he never considered their existence before this moment.

“Forgive me, sir… I’ve said nonesense.”

__  
  


“Don’t worry about that,” Thrawn stroked Eli’s head again, not letting his anxiety to exceed some invisible limit. “Our people have very different meanings of “family”, so you’re right, in a sense.” .

“But anyway, every sentient being should have someone. Someone he’s attached to, as to a family.”

“Someone that can be trusted,” Thrawn added and moved his eyes from his face, smiling strangely. “Once I’ve had an elder brother. When I was a child he taught me to defend my mind from any effects capable of influence on my ability of right comprehension of the situation. And when I failed - he soothed me,” Thrawn pressed gently on Eli’s nape and temples simultaneously, “like this,” he bend over him and touched his forehead with his nose, continuing to stroke him. Eli closed his eyes. “And he said that a warrior should never allow the chemistry of the body to control the decisions of his mind.”

“I can’t imagine you loosing control. You’re always so chill that… it seems you just don’t feel anything,” Eli said and awkwardly silenced again. “So and… your brother is still there?”

“He perished. Mostly by my fault. But we were both doing the things we must to protect our people, so I don’t regret what’s happened. I am proud of him,” Thrawn said so calmly that Eli felt a little creepy. Indeed, the Chiss was never stopped by any obstacle if he knew his way was right. Even by the death of his only close relative. Even by the disapproval of all his people. And he, Eli, was something unmeasurably insignificant - young alien, which Thrawn for some moment considered as a valuable ally. 

“So, you… don’t have anyone?” Eli decided to ask when Thrawn moved over.

“I have you,” he gave him such a look that it seemed to Eli that light of his eyes was pleasantly warm. “It’s quite enough. And, I’d like you to know, that you always have me.”


	5. Art is... a language that everyone understands

__

_With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite._

_How rare and beautiful it is to even exist._

 

_Sleeping at last — Saturn_

 

“The Museum of Military Arts of the Old Republic?” 

 

Thrawn raised both of his eyebrows, slowly reading the big and bright holographic announcement above the entry arch aloud. His voice contained a complex mixture of emotions, and Eli began to doubt his choice of place to visit together right from the start, now wanting to go down the tube to the lower levels. This museum, which he found in the guidebook, was quite old and not popular, but certainly was something of the Chiss’ interests - at least this seemed to be the case to Eli  at first sight.

 

“Well, I figured you’re a warrior, interested in history and…”

 

“And are you interested in it yourself, ensign?” Thrawn asked even more unexpectedly.

 

“That will do for some… general education,” Eli shrugged, awkwardly hiding his fussiness. Thrawn only smiled, observing him.

 

“I have been here already. Let’s go somewhere else.”

 

Eli opened his mouth, feeling that he was losing ground. He felt more stupid than ever and wished to escape to anywhere else, but he was frozen to the steps of the museum. His first attempt to show initiative in choosing the place  to visit during their day off on Coruscant failed.

 

“Oh Krayt spit, forgive me, sir… I was so sure... “ he murmured, but became silent, when the Chiss’ palm was placed firmly on his shoulder.   
  
“I wonder, where would you go, if you didn’t have the  burden of me,” he bowed his head to the right side, his eyes blinking a little brighter. Eli frowned. He hardly trusted in the sincerity of such questions, but since there was almost a year he’d known Thrawn he learned that pretending had never been his best asset.   
  
“I…” Ensign Vanto rolled his eyes into the direction of the street, where people simply walked around during their day off. He himself was used to walking like this in his free time, observing the road or the ground distractedly. Pointless wandering and sometimes sitting in some bar with cold drinks. Lysatra and Myomar were not rich in entertainment, and he’d never looked for it himself. “I don’t know. Coruscant is so big and loud… I’m afraid to get lost. And… everyone sees me as some yokel…”

 

“I see. We need to get lost,” the Chiss moved his palm from Eli’s shoulder to his wrist, clenched it tightly and made Eli follow him.

 

“But I’ve said the opposite!” Eli exclaimed in misunderstanding, but it expectedly had no effect. And the further they went from the museum, the more he was amazed to how calmly he was following Thrawn without any attempts to resist. Like it happened somewhere else, to someone else, and some other Eli he had never known really wanted to get lost with the Chiss somewhere on the lower levels of the Imperial Center.  

 

He woke up out of the trance when they entered another lift and Thrawn took out his green eyeglasses and put on the dirty cloak he wore for disguise. While they were going down the cabin trembled more and more and the ensign felt claustrophobic.

 

“W-where are we going?” he asked, observing the numbers of the levels they passed with increasing strain. “Sir it… isn’t safe out there. At least that’s what I’m told.”

 

“Are you afraid, ensign?” Thrawn asked in response, and at that very moment the lift stopped and the rusty door let them out on the dark street, full of lewd neon lights at any time of day.

 

“I guess not while I’m with you,” Eli admitted. Indeed he didn’t feel any fear within himself. More likely his feeling now was curiosity. Like it was some kind of game, where he yet had to figure out the rules.   
  
“I’m not going to leave you alone. I wish to learn more about your.”

 

“And you believe it has to be done here among the dregs of the society?”   
  
“Sometimes you have to dig into dirt to find a treasure,” Thrawn softly touched Eli’s back with his palm, gently pushing him to go ahead.

 

And he went, skimminghis unfocused eyesight from one neon announcement to another, looking like space nebulas in the humid air. He tried to think of it as just another walk, so he didn’t pay much attention to the surrounding reality, comprehending only bright spots and loud screams, mostly in the languages he didn’t understand. 

  
Almost nobody paid attention to them - evidently they didn’t want to try their forces against the tall and brawny alien. Thrawn was behind him, but so uncustomly subtle that Eli for a moment forgot of his presence, proceeding to go without knowing the path. It was peaceful and almost pleasant.

 

Suddenly he stopped when his toes touched a line of blue light, falling from a half-opened door. From that side music was flowing, and for some reason he didn’t want to pass it by without listening to the melody to the end. Somebody’s tenor voice was singing a song quietly, the words of which he couldn’t comprehend, but the emotions within found some unexplainable resonance in the ensign’s perception. He didn’t notice how the line of light broadened as Thrawn invited him to enter the opened door.

 

“Oh no, it is… I…” he whispered anxiously, but the Chiss grabbed his wrist again and pulled him in.

 

They found themselves in a small hall where the only source of light were the holograms hanging from the ceiling, now depicting planets orbiting around some unknown blue star, illuminating a small stage where three musicians were playing. Few dozens of visitors were standing ang listening, others placed themselves around the tables and drank spirits from the bar, served by some cephalopod alien with shining suckers on his tentacles. Nothing else but shapeless shadows could be seen in this darkness, and Eli lifted his eyes to the holograms. 

 

The сircling planets were then replaced by a nebula, the nebula changed into a galaxy, and Eli Vanto, captured by the sound of music, was carried away at the speed of light into unknown, feeling himself, as always, something small and insignificant, but now these feelings were not filled with shame. Because everyone around him, even Thrawn, were the same tiny granules of sand on the enormous canvas of the Universe. Peace and harmony filled him, and he didn’t notice that he was smiling. 

 

The song ended, and the magic that enchanted Eli faded away, returning him to the reality of forsaken bar on the lower levels of Coruscant. In this silence it became possible to hear others’ whispers, movements of furniture and the quiet knocking of polymer dishes. Very close, right beside his ear, Eli heard a long sigh and turned his head. Thrawn was standing by his side, as silent and pensive as himself. He had his glasses on no more - red eyes shining in darkness like a couple of dimmed stars, but they didn’t look creepy, as if they’ve always been a part of infinite space above them.

 

“I guess we… have to go,” Eli said, started to be ashamed of his emotions for some reason - it happened every time he found something that made him feel emotions he could call happiness, but were not connected with achieving practical goals.

 

“Why so?” the Chiss asked calmly.

 

“Because it’s…” Eli paused. He really couldn’t find any objective reason to escape. He couldn’t use the excuse that someone like him cannot be placed in the company of nobles - here, deep in the lower levels, existed no terms of nobility. He couldn’t say that nobody would be glad to see a man from the Imperial Navy - in this darkness and dimmed light in humid mist one couldn’t see even which race he was. He didn’t break any rules or laws, but somehow went on feeling out of place, even now, when he got lost in a company of weird alien without any purpose but following him. “This is just too good for me to be a part of it.”

 

“What in the world wounded you so deep that you feel ashamed to be interested in art?”

 

“Thrawn, you know, I care only about numbers. Art and numbers, whatever the philosophers say…”

 

“These musicians are Droids,” Thrawn bent down and gently held his shoulders, forcing Eli to look at the stage. Only now, not being enchanted by the beauty of the moment, Eli could see pale metallic glitter on the players’ limbs. “All three of them. There are only ones and zeros in their heads, however it doesn’t make their music less beautiful.”

 

Eli lowered his eyes in defeat. The last argument he could invent with his discouraged mind was fractured.

 

“This droid has… a very realistic voice,” he replied distractedly.

 

“What do you think it was singing about?”

 

“I don’t know. But I was thinking about space, the infinity of it and… the insignificance of all our worries and conflicts. About how we fight and die every day for something, while the stars are just shining. They don’t hinder each other, don’t argue, they just exist, obeying the laws of physics.”

 

“And you think - why can’t we stop for a while and live in peace with each other, like the stars do? Why can’t we become similar to something so simple and beautiful?

 

“How do you know that?” Eli turned to Thrawn and in the glow from hologram he could see that he was smiling.

 

“I have never seen you as happy and calm as a minute ago.”

 

Vanto moved his eyes. The Chiss had caught him into another complicated psychological trap and was not going to let him go before he could destroy the cage created by time and circumstances that Eli considered himself to be irrelevant. Non-existing. To find the one who wished to escape from Lysatra not for the rank of supply officer, but for adventures and infinite diversities of races and cultures awaiting for him across the Galaxy.

 

“And what were you thinking of?” he asked to cast away the awkward silence.

 

“Mainly the same thing. The combination of music, image and voice intonations speaks as well as words and finds similar response in persons that think with similar categories.”

 

“But… would there be a place for such a warrior like you in this world?”

 

“Bad is the warrior possessed only by the glitter of weapons and heat of battles. The great one will be the one who is ready to fight any evil to reach peace, where everybody will be free and able to reach his destiny.”

 

“But what is evil, if we all  are similar tiny particles of sand under the stars?”

 

“It is a good question indeed,” Thrawn responded evasively. Holograms under the ceiling changed their colors and shapes into fish shoals, and the musicians started creating a new melody, no less enchanting than the previous one. “Do you still wish to leave this place?”   
  
“No,” Eli confessed and turned back to the stage. His strain and shame disappeared and he could finally open himself to the blissful tranquility filling him. “I like this performance,” he added quietly. “And I like that you are here talking to me. Almost like…” he paused awkwardly, looking for the right word. 

 

“A friend?” Thrawn offered.

 

“Oh, no, sir, I wouldn’t dare…”

 

“I would like you to consider me a friend, not an annoying burden, spoiling your career,” unusual tones sounded in the Chiss’ voice and Eli wasn’t sure what they meant. He gave himself time to stay silent and distracted himself from the difficulttalks and dilemmas with the music, flowing around him like an infinite sea of tranquility.

 

“If it weren’t for you, I’d never had seen and felt all of it,” he said when the last musical wave flowed away from the comprehension of the visitors back into silence. “Maybe, the career isn’t so important after all?”

 

“I will give you a better assignment when I become an Admiral,” Thrawn reminded Eli with all the seriousness of the promise he’d given before. “You may not worry about the ranks and rather concentrate on self-improvement, to be ready to put to use all your potential when the moment comes.”   
  
“Thrawn, you’re… really weird,” Eli couldn’t help a chuckle, but this time it was not bitter or annoyed. “But it seems that I am starting to like it.”

  
The holograms on the ceiling turned into clouds, highlighted by a setting sun, and the effects of light came again into perfect harmony with the music, carrying all the visitors on the waves of their thoughts somewhere, where they had a sky above their home. Thrawn was admiring the art, and Eli was happy, and for the first time in his life he could share this happiness with someone else.

 


	6. Art is... a dance that you want to repeat

_ _

 

_ Promise I'll be kind _

_ But I won't stop until that boy is mine _

_ Baby you'll be famous _

_ Chase you down until you love me _

 

_ Lady Gaga — Paparazzi _

 

“Ensign Vanto, I need your assistance,” Thrawn said when the door closed behind his aide’s back. Eli raised his eyebrows in a slight amusement - on every wall of captain’s quarters were projected holopictures of the most luxury dance halls of the Empire. In most of them people were moving in complex group dances. Pairs were coming together and then again apart, groups were assembling, building themselves into different figures from simple circle to complete compositions in shape of letters, emblems or flowers.

 

“Oh, are you… exploring the art of dance?” ensign clarified, holding his eyesight on dancers in red clothes, circling through the kuara blossom festival on Alderaan.

 

“Yes, it’s very exiting,” a vexing “but” blinked in the Chiss’ usual reserved tone.

 

“But you’re doing it not because of tactical need, and not even of simple curiosity,” Eli assumed and looked into his dimmed shining eyes attentively. Thrawn looked back at him, changed his pose and remained silent, motivating ensign to proceed. “Someone of high command called you to some festive banquet again. Someone of high rank and well aware of your current tasks, so that you lack the ability to avoid this forced invitation.

 

Captain nodded slightly, and in the light of the holograms it could be seen how his lips tightened into strained line.

 

“The event you’re invited to will occur quite soon,” Eli proceeded announcing his guessings a little bit more assured. “That’s going to be something large-scale, and he, who invited you, is evidently counting on making a laughingstock of you as… smart aleck alien who cannot behave in high society.” Vanto frowned. “Wasn’t it accidently moff Ghadi?”

 

“Very good, ensign. Very good,” Thrawn repeated a little more gloomy.

 

“Thank you, captain,” Eli couldn’t help smiling. Whatever the circumstances, realizing that he managed to learn to understand the misterious Chiss almost without him saying a word, made him feel a little better. Linguistic divide and dubious word formations were in the past, and now instead of them came the new level of understanding that the introverted guy from the Wild Space never had even with members of his family. “But… what does it have to do with me?”   
  
“You will teach me how to dance,” Thrawn changed his pose again and put both his legs on the floor with intention to get up.

 

“Oh, I was afraid you were going to say that. Thrawn, I…”

 

“...grew up on Lysatra and, of’course, don’t know any dance,” Thrawn finished instead of him and in few steps appeared right in front of ensign. “However you are capable of introducing me some set of basic movements humans usually perform when they hear music.”

 

“That won’t work,” Eli looked at the circling pairs again. “There is only jizz playing in our cantinas, and with it you may even stay on your head.”

 

“On my head?” Thrawn asked with all seriosity.

 

“Er… that was a joke.” Vanto laughed stupidly. “But to be honest there is… no “dancing culture” on Lysatra.”

 

“Even if you see no culture in this that doesn’t mean there is no. I’ve studied the art of dance, and many times I’ve seen how chaotic sets of movements aquired some order and joined into unique consequences after time, typical for certain regions and social layers.” Thrawn quickly pressed some buttons on the console and smiled. “And I see you as an example of a possible compilation of the most primitive human dance styles, which I can memorize quick and easy.”

 

The quarters were filled with music - some old-style jizz that was rare to meet even at the very outskirts of the Empire. Bouncy sounds of the fizz and few strings and keybords created a stomping rhythm, absolutely not colliding neither with the balls projected on the walls, nor with the strict atmosphere of the office. The absurd of this picture was even increased by the text of the song, sang with few male voices, phrasing some romantic obsession.

 

“Dance, ensign Vanto.”

 

Eli breathed heavily, realizing that the Chiss was completely serious and wouldn’t accept an argument. While trying to abstract from incompilation of different elements of his surroundings he closed his eyes and concentrated on the music, loud enough to fill his mind. Those few times he visited the cantinas with his groupmates he passed the frontier of awkward hotching and that happened only due to certain amount of alcohol in his blood. While thinking of it he didn’t notice how first his shoulders, then his arms started moving in the rhytm of this absurd song. After few seconds he started dancing with his legs, yet never parting his feet with the floor.

 

“You should stop being shy in front of me,” captain’s voice pulled him back into reality from the imaginary cantina, and Eli was petrified again. Thrawn narrowed his eyes in disapproval. Vanto proceeded to dance after breathing through his teeth, now with his eyes opened, and he was glad that in the twilight of the office it was impossible to see how his face blushed under piercing look of his commander that was standing still.

  
Soon Eli relaxed a little and his movements became less strained. One absurd song shifted to another, but order to stop didn’t come. Instead of it Thrawn’s eyesight started wandering around images of the walls, returning again and again to the embarassed dancing ensign.

 

“Hm-m, now I can see,” the Chiss said and, repeating Eli’s movements, started to dance with his shoulders and palms in the rhythm. Vanto mentioned in amusement that Thrawn was able to do it so effortlessly that the awkward movements he copied started to look as a part of some real dance figure. Intentionally constrained pose opened step by step, and soon captain was moving twice more actively than his “teacher”. However, despite all Eli’s hope, he didn’t stop on this.

 

He turned on his heels and stepped so close to the ensign that he subconsciously took a step backwards. But he was immediately pulled back - Thrawn’s hand firmly laid on his waist.

 

“Captain, what are you doing?” Eli exclaimed, taking a quick breath of surprise. He had to raise his head up to see the face of the Chiss, tall above him, which eyes seemed to shine brighter than ever.

 

“Analyzing. Compilating. Perfecting,” Thrawn smiled and caught his hand, forcing to fully obey his movements. “The dance that is danced by two persons in unified style turns from accidental consequence of movements into a combined improvisation. Confidently performed simple moves, attached to few of more complicated - in fact simplified complex figures from other dances - will make it feel like they are easy to repeat. Many of the visitors will try to repeat them, and that means it won’t be a laughingstock,” he moved his hand from Eli’s waist and took a step backwards. Eli repeated his move almost subconsciously, and then they came closer to each other again. Eli barely believed in the success of such plan, but he didn’t allow himself to object - too often Thrawn turned to be right in the end. “The last thing has to be done is to include some songs like these into the program of that dance party.”

 

“Are you going to dance like this with some young royal ladies?” Eli asked humbly, when Chiss forced him to turn around and literally fall into his arms. Thrawn held him so tight and unexpectedly that Eli breathed in a little louder than he was going to.

 

“But there will be you by my side, ensign Vanto,” Thrawn noticed almost accusingly and immediately smoothed his note with even broader smile, turning him into another just compiled figure. “Any other partner will be unable to expect my moves so perfectly, and the mission will be failed.”

  
“So, eh… shall we end the rehearsal at this point?” Eli clarified, controversing with his own thoughts of how he started to enjoy what was happening. Another song ended, and silence fell between the dancers.

 

“And do you want it to end?” Thrawn replied in a questioning tone, holding Eli’s palms in his. Eli stood still, blinking nervously, trying to find within himself any logical argumented answer, but even in this silence his thoughts were still filled with music, in rhythm of which by some weird inertia his shoulders continued to shake. He didn’t notice how keyboards started to play again, announcing the start of the next composition. The Chiss’ lips smiled unusually sincere. “I’ve thought so.”


	7. Art is... a picture that tells the story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was removed and edited, but I am still not sure in quality of my translation. Sorry, if something remains uclear.

_ _

 

_ From the moment I first saw you _

_ All the darkness turned to light _

_ An impressionistic painting _

_ Tiny particles of light _

_ It seems to me that's what you're like _

_ The «look but please don't touch me» type _

_ And honestly it can't be fun _

_ To always be the chosen one _

 

_ Madonna — Masterpiece _

 

“The artist that creates an abstract painting is the most vulnerable,” Thrawn started speaking as he noticed ensign Vanto approach with his side vision. Captain stood, staring at the group of street artists that did not pay attention to the stormtroopers and imperial officers wandering around the city. A small island, where gathered themselves those who wished to try themselves in painting, hiding themselves behind the canvases, was existing like in another dimension, and no trouble could step on its territory. However, Thrawn brought a patrol right here, in the center of the Nubian Carnival. “He doesn’t limit himself with picturing any objects or shapes he sees in front of him. All images and colors he takes from the inside. He puts himself naked and defenseless in front of those, who can see.”

 

“Do you think our pirate hid among them?” Vanto followed the Chiss’ eyesight and looked at one of the pictures, being a set of bright strokes. He never considered himself as someone who could read such paintings. Before meeting Thrawn he never accepted them even as “art”, but under his influence he had to change his mind.   
  
“I consider it possible. Such move correlates with my profile of his intellectual developement. Why not combining a pursuit with observing others creating art?” Thrawn stepped slowly inside the island, proceeding to stare at the very same picture. Vanto followed him, trying not to touch any of the artists, which were swinging their hands too intensively in artistic euphoria. “Tell me, ensign Vanto, what do you see here?”

 

“Fuss,” Eli assumed, observing the bright spots that the artist’s hand, it seemed, was placing very chaotically in circles, simulating some activity. It even seemed to him that his movements became faster as Eli and Thrawn stood behind his back. “Such… nervous and pointless fuss.”

 

“Do you see anything beside this fuss?”

 

“Nothing,” ensign confessed with sound of guilt.

 

“Precisely,” Thrawn slowly took away his blaster and put it to the artist’s neck. The man put his hands up, letting the brush fall down from his fingers. Only now Eli recognized that his appearence correlated with the description of the one they were looking for. “Because he set here only few minutes ago and could do only few bright strokes to make it look like he’s been sitting here and painting for a long time. He hoped to escape, but I brought in the patrol, so he had to stay here and do chaotic circles around the canvas, betraying his own panic on his desperate position.

 

“Amazing. Even this random set of spots tells you a story,” Vanto chuckled, one more time amused by how artistically was Thrawn performing his duties.

 

“Nothing is random, when it’s about art, ensign,” the corners of Chiss’ lips slightly rose in satisfaction. Few stormtroopers from the closest patrol approached and put handcuffs on the captured pirate. “Please, make sure that this improvisation is checked on all possible dangers and then brought to me.”

 

***

 

When the painting, disposed from the pirate, passed through all the procedures of additional scanning and was confirmed to be safe, Eli could calmly take it to Thrawn’s quarters. This set of spots, now removed from the context, was still looking pointless for him, but he didn’t have any mood to controverse with the captain and try to get some more clear explanation from him than the one he’d already given.

 

The door opened in front of him almost with no sound. Eli took a step inside and froze in amazement. It was dark in the quarters: not a single light was turned on, and there were no multiple holograms on the walls. The only source of light was a dim holopicture, composed from shining dots, and it covered all the wall. Thrawn was standing in front of it with his back turned to the door and looked like a dark silhouette in the middle of it. He was touching the image gently with his hand, and under his touch the picture was slowly changing. Some dots faded away, some became brighter, and the longer Eli was looking at the holographic canvas, the more this chaos of light unveiled it’s hidden features.

 

Admiring, how precise and elegant the Chiss spread the dots and colors, Vanto forgot why he came here. Thrawn was absorbed by the process of drawing and he didn’t notice, that his solitude was interrupted. It never looked like those things they saw at the Carnival, where the guests created on evanescent impulse of inspiration of the bright festive colours. The image Thrawn created was unclear, but while observing and analysing it Eli felt almost physical cold, hidden in the contrast of icy-blue and indigo-black, and heard the cadence of wind in almost unnoticeable arcs and whirls, crossing through darker sections, and silent jingling of rolling particles of ice.

 

He desired to see the full painting, and he tried to take a step aside as quiet as he could. But, being absorbed by Thawn’s picture, he completely forgot of the one he held in his hand. The moment Eli bowed to see the center of the image, hiding behind captain’s back, the frame betrayed him and slipped from his fingers. He didn’t know what was louder - the noise of the falling or his own exclamation of disappointment.

 

Thrawn turned roughly. Red shining eyes, opened wide in sudden, looked grimly from his dark silhouette. 

 

“Oh, sorry, sir, I’m so awkward,” Vanto picked up the picture fussily and strained in front of the captain. 

 

“Don’t worry. The frame is durable.” Thrawn said in his usual tranquil manner. “Computer, light on forty percents.”

 

The lighting that filled the quarters made picture of shining dots fade particulary, but still Eli couldn’t hold himself from looking at it again. Not as bright as in complete darkness, the image obtained a new effect, and he wanted to examine it.

 

“Ensign Vanto?” Thrawn called him. For some reason he was like he didn’t care for the trophy in his hands right now. “Eli?” he asked more slowly and quietly, and tones of hidden worry appeared in his chilled voice.

 

“Yes, sir?” Vanto replied inertially, still unable to move his eyes from the picture. The Chiss’ palm laid on his face and forced him to turn to him again.

 

“Why are you lookin’ so at’thentively at this medio’crity?” Thrawn spoke each word very slowly, and for the first time after a year and a half the former accent appeared in his speech. Eli opened and closed his lips in embarrassment for few times, but he didn’t want even to try to lie to Thrawn. He had never seen this admirer of all kinds of art talking of something with such disgust.

 

“This... is much more beautiful and interesting than anything we’ve seen at the Carnival!”

 

“Non’scense. You simply has no taste,” Thrawn took the picture from the ensign’s hands and pressed few buttons on the holoconsole. The image blinked and disappeared, and instead of it a dim red message “Deleted” came out.

 

“But that was…” Eli almost screamed, but then put his teeth tight together when he caught heavy faded captain’s glance, informing he didn’t want to proceed the discussion. Eli breathed heavily and lowered his head, hiding his eyes behind the apron. “Forgive me, sir. I… good night, sir.”

 

***

 

When Eli found himself in his quarters, he didn’t want even to think of going to sleep. The picture of thousands of shining dots, disappeared in vain moments ago, proceeded standing right in front of his eyes in his mind, and wasn’t gone even after he undressed and visited the refresher.   
  
He came to the holoterminal and requested logs of all the deleted files that were preserved in cash of the main computer before the ship arrived to one of the central repair docks, where they were checked and terminally deleted by droids and people with special access. He knew such regulations were applied for cargo ships to avoid altering of the manifests or black market bargaining, and he wasn’t mistaking when he thought the same thing was done for the warships. A list appeared in front of him, the end of it was far down below the roller - the amount of files was described by five-digit number. Eli made a whistling sound, but the expected difficulties only made him more excited.

 

“Remove everything but static holographic images.” The list decreased to two thousands. “Show only files that were deleted today.”

 

Vanto smiled - now there were only sixty names. Majority of them started with the word “Nubian” with serial numbers in the end and must have been holopictures of the Carnival which Thrawn was investigating before the landing. Two more pictures, as it was clear from their names, were images of new models of blasters. The file he was looking for was hiding under undescriptive name “niezaho naan”. Eli never met such words even in sy-bisti.

 

“Open file “niezaho naan”” Eli said with victorious smile. The picture of shining dots appeared in front of him again, and now he could examine every part of it all night long. His cheeks were burning of mixture of happiness and shame that filled him, like it happened in his childhood, when he secretely stole a dozen of credits from his farther’s work coat to buy some sweets. However, when he focused on the previously hidden central part of the picture he suddenly felt himself awkward. He didn’t see a combination of shining dots anymore. He saw Thrawn, hiding behind the impenetrable wall of confidence in his actions, words and goals - lonely and desperate, like a meteor, burning in layers of atmosphere, misunderstood, exiled and bitterly missing his dark and cold, but infinitely beloved homeworld.

 

Suddenly for himself, Eli stroked few tears from his face.

 

“Save the file on my terminal and close it,” he ordered, and his quarters fell into darkness again. For a minute or less he went on staring at the empty wall, listening for the sound of his own breathing. He couldn’t escape the feeling he’d just seen something he was not allowed to. But his curiosity took it over. “Find among the deleted files everything containing wordforms “niezaho” or “naan”.

 

The word “naan” appeared no more. But there were more than twenty files, containing “niezaho”. Now Eli felt not like a naughty child, but like a true museum thief.

 

“Preserve and demonstrate all these files.”

 

The ensign’s quarters were filled with shining paints. All created by the hands of the same artist, the pictures had something in commom, but each of them had it’s unique melody and feeling in it. Emotions, not a shade of which Eli could notice for Thrawn, here were shining and luminescenting. Impotent rage, dismay and fatigue, misunderstanding, strain and tormenting indefinition were burdening him, while his confidence and will were making his way through almost hopeless darkness. Each picture was telling from different side about a fight, internal and external, which never ended for him. 

 

However one of the pictures were strongly different from others. There were no shapes in it - only a spot of soft yellow on grey-blue, looking like a ray of sun, warming a stone. Although a certain strain was felt from its edges, it’s central area was radiating calm, promising a short relief among the dark days.

 

“Niezaho vim csop,” Thrawn’s voice named the file, while captain himself appeared to enter ensign’s quarters unnoticed this time and stood behind him. Eli breathed in roughly and turned to him, but decided not to do anything. The Chiss lowered on the bed beside him, looking unfocused at his own pictures covering the walls. His face looked uncommonly lost, and he himself seemed unusually vulnerable.

 

“What does “niezaho” mean?

 

“Silly. Stupid. Point’leth,” besides the returned accent Thrawn misplaced all the stress marks. “Forgive me, ensinn Vanto. I was unreas’onably rude to you.”

 

“I understand, captain,” Eli said as calm as he could and shivered of how ambigously it sounded - now, when he saw these pictures, he really understood more, than he was usually offered to. “It’s me to say sorry for my undue curiosity.”

 

“Your interest has it’s reasons,” the Chiss’ voice became confident again, but only partly. “Unfortunately, emotions didn’t allow me to comprehend your true intentions objectively. On Csilla everyone can make beautiful strokes of luminescent paints - this tradition appeared from ancient times when we had to orient by shining markings in dark caves. And the thing I was doing isn’t even a real sample of tradition, but a synthetic imitation. There is really nothing special in these pictures.”

 

“It isn’t so, Thrawn. There is you in them,” Eli smiled and touched the Chiss’ hand with his fingers, looking into his eyes. “And stay calm, I will never betray you to anyone.”


	8. Art is... a god that people create

_ _

 

_ In the land of gods and monsters, _

_ I was an angel, lookin' to get fucked hard. _

_ Like a groupie incognito posing as a real singer, _

_ Life imitates art _

_ You got that medicine I need _

_ Dope, shoot it up straight to the heart please _

_ I don't really wanna know what's good for me _

_ God's dead, I said 'baby that's alright with me'. _

 

_ Lana del Rey — of gods and monsters _

  
  
  


The upcoming task looked quite easy. They had to land on a planet and without making any noise take people, equipment and a shuttle, that became broken due to actions of raging aboriginal. The research group had no weapons with them, so it caused the initial difficulties. Eli did not understand why a full equipped cruised was brought to save them, while Thrawn was looking forward for another intriguing adventure.

 

“The planet Pelas is inhabited by humans, someones similar to your kind,” he explained, holding a datapad in his hands with data on culture which they were going to interact. “A very ancient colony, isolated for millenia. They’ve lost almost all of their initial technologies at times of the Rakatan Empire, and didn’t manage to return to space travelling further than to planets of their own systems.”

 

“For millenia?” Eli opened his mouth in disbelief. “How is it possible? Humans are…” he stomped in his speech, realizing that he almost announces one of the propagated ideas of human racial superiority, circling through the holonet.

 

“Only one of thousands of sentient humanoid species, inhabiting the galaxy. Mistakingly thinking of themselves as a superior one, but undergoing more changes under surroundings influence than any of it’s evolutionary branches,” the last words Thrawn told almost with pride and handed him the pad, inviting to join him in investigation of Pelisan culture.

 

There was the text of the investigation on screen, written by scientists that had been studying Pelas thousend of years ago. Historical notes intermediated with quotes from literature origins, reflecting the surrounding reality in different ways, and opinions of the scientists not always sounded neutral. Some of them frankly opposed some of the leaders of the major coalitions of states, situated on the planet, others criticized the multiple terroristic groups of local freedom fighters. One quote, very different to the other, attracted Eli’s attention:

 

“...Our home - is but a tiny particle of sand in the desert of the infinite space. Our growing disagreements are nothing but an issue of degrading minds of those, who forgotten, how once all of us were equal, when we were restoring our civilization from the ruins. We look for more and more perverted ways to betray each other and get more power and resources instead of looking at the stars, from which our ancestors came. I am sure, we’re not alone. And I am ashamed for my people in front of those, who may be watching us.”

 

Eli looked at the date of this quote and was amazed now even more. It was taken from the book of Pelasan local sci-fi-dreamer Ren Meigo, which lived two thousends years before that investigation was realized, but it perfectly fitted the context. Historical survey reported that after that book was written Pelas underwent a planetary scale war, and almost all the population of the planet was extinct. Afterwhile they restored themselves to stage of primitive pre-hyper technologies and even explored one of the planet’s moons and restored an ancient base on it. Eli frowned - in actual modern reports inhabitants of Pelas were described as rural feudal society.

 

“Do you feel this pattern, ensign?” Thrawn asked with an evanescent smile. 

 

“How many times global cataclysms occured on Pelas?”

 

“According to the investigations data this colony turned to be at the mark of extinction for five times through past twelve thousands of years. For the first time it underwent heavy bombardment by the Rakata. However all the following catastrophes were the Pelasan’s fault.”

 

“Fascinating. They’ve repeated the same story time after time. Didn’t they have any access to the information of the former period?”

 

“They had,” the Chiss rose his eyebrows and chuckled. “But it was more convenient for them to forget and deny the mistakes of the past. Pelasan literature describes dozens of variation of the apocalypse and tries to persuade people to stop the fractional conflicts. Such authors as Ren Meigo were not rare, but nobody listened to them, and Pelasan’s life continues to imitate their art cruelly ironic.”

 

“And that means that they must have never seen any aliens from other planets, especially the one who don’t look like humans.”

 

“Not quite,” Thrawn took the pad from him and stroke the screen few times with his finger. “Their degraded comprehension doesn’t allow them to realize the possibility of existance of the other sentient beings in the Universe. They are stuck on themselves and their small world, so they got legends and…” he passed the pad back to Eli, “...Gods.”

 

Now there was a fresque on the screen. The background of the image was dark, in the center stood a high figure, holding a sword in one hand, flames, depicted with golden cover, in the other. The deity’s clothes were blindingly white, it’s skin was blue, and instead of it’s eyes were placed two blood-red crystals. Eli couldn’t strain his amazed chuckle and looked through the other images. Techniques and styles were different through ages, the image gained new details and changes, like shapes of clothes, facial expression, hair length, it was even added horns or wings, but the main features remained unchanged.

 

“They call him Iskelan, more rarely - Kela’nur. Star Harbinger that brought fire and stopped the war among people,” Thrawn said with uncovered grin. “In fact his name was Hess’kela’nuruodo. His ship was badly damaged during a major conflict, but he managed to save his crew and get to the closest inhabitable planet, place a beacon and wait for the Ascendancy to send a shuttle for him. There were no first contact protocols to control his interactions, so he and his soldiers were enjoying absolute power above the underdeveloped Pelasans for few years. Amazing, but the memory about a “cruel God”, bringing order to their minds, was preserved through thousands of years better than any scientific achievements.”

 

“So that is why you agreed so easily for such ridiculous task,” Eli laughed. Boring mission of saving scientists from difficult situation now promised to transform into exciting performance he didn’t want to miss.

 

***

 

Thrawn ordered to land the shuttle right on the central square of the capital of the largest of local states. At this moment there gathered many people - they came to perform a public execution of one of the imperial scientists and, considering their mentality, there could be thousands of reasons for such a sentence. Captain decided that this moment was perfect for them to appear, and for better effect he placed a long cut of white canvas over his uniform in a manner of a scarf. Most of the crew objected his plan, but he informed everyone that he took personal responsibility on possible negative effect on natural degradation of this colony.

 

When the shuttle landed, and the captain and his aide and few soldiers stepped out on Pelas surface, the people gathered on the square met them with revered silence. Thrawn gave others the sign to stay backwards and took a step forwards, holding an armed blaster in his hand. A wind blow raised the canvas of his broad scarf and excited whispers ran through the Pelasans crowd.

 

“Iskelan!” an old man, dressed a little better than the other locals, exclaimed. Evidently, it was a priest. He came closer and looked in Thrawn’s face, then fell on his knees, raising his hands to him. Other Pelasans immediately bowed down to the ground.

 

“Iskelan!” they repeated with discortant choir. Thrawn remained silent, observing them severely from above, but Eli mentioned that his tightly strained lips were slightly smiling.

 

“Kimsi bei,” the priest crawled closer, demonstratively bedraggling his already dirty gowns in the sand. “Vah... “ he stretched his arm and took the edge of captain’s white scarf with his fingers, “vakosetan ch’at mon nen! (Fire God, you came to bring us judgement!)” With his free hand the old men pointed on a scaffold, where the sentenced scientist sat tied beside the device, built for long painful execution. Thrawn slowly turned his face to that frightened perplexed imperial citizen, then again to the priest, and took a dramatic pause. Then he aimed and shot the old man’s wrist, chopping away the palm that dared to “touch the deity”. The Pelasan yelled in pain, and Eli unwillingly turned his eyes away from the view of burning flesh.

 

“Ch’ah vakosen Mitth’raw’nuruodo!” Thrawn spoke out loud and clear, looking above the crowd’s heads. “Vah ehah ch'eo vutar! (I am Mitth’raw’nuruodo! You’ve caused my anger!)” one more blaster shot hit the torturing device. Devoured in flames, it fell from the hangers and buried the crowd of observers under the scaffold. Panic began on the square. Some tried to escape, some hit the ground with their foreheads, believing that it will entreat the angry God.

 

“Enbota, enbota! Kimsi bei, vitiku’asi! (Spare, spare! Fire God, be merciful!)” yelled the priest pathetically, bursting in tears and twining in pain.

 

“Vitiukasi!” multiple voices repeated after him, deverting the sound of the word more and more.

 

“Tenasehn bav! (release him!)” Thrawn said, proceeding to point at the sentenced scientist. Then he turned to Eli, calling his with invitive gesture to follow him to the scaffold, where a pair of soldiers was roughly untying the convict and few of his colleagues, standing below, yet waiting for their sentence. People that they passed by were jumping to the side in creep, afraid that they experience the same fortune as the priest, because their God considered them unworthy to stay closer to him. “Now, I believe, nothing will stop us from freeing the citizens of Empire,” he proceeded in Basic, and Eli sighed out in relief, hoping they won’t have to shoot anyone again.

 

“This was so either genius, either insane that I can’t even be angry with your arbitrary behavior!” the scientist exclaimed as he jumped from the scaffold to meet them. His voice was trembling after the stress he went through, but the interest was burning in his eyes. “Outstanding makeup, captain!” he laughed nervously and gave a nip to the Chiss’ cheek, and a distinct displease could be read on the face of the latter to the fact he couldn’t do the same thing he did to the priest. “And these eyes! I’m impressed! You’ll be included into Pelasans mythology as a new… oh, wait, you’re… really blue! How amazing! I didn’t know that the Imperial Navy…”

 

“Where is the shuttle?” Thrawn asked grimly, moving the scientist’s hand away with the blaster, and the Human nervously stood away and went silent.

 

“They disassembled it and tried to fuse, sir,” a young woman that came with other released researchers reported. “Obviously, they couldn’t craft any weapon of it, but it is in irrepairable state now. The containers with equipment and samples are in the woods to the north of the city.”

 

“Why did they decide to execute you?”

 

“We tried to interrupt natural history move and prevent the war between Kaisy and Becava. Becava didn’t find our peacemaking propaganda and claimed us heretics, because Iskelan taught to follow your mission until your last breath. By the way, how did you know this language? Here only clerics talk it fluently.”

 

“It is always so sad, when good ideas fall so wrong in stupid minds,” Thrawn said quietly, ignoring her question. “Take the squadron and lead it to the containers. If anyone of the locals tries to oppose you, I allow to shoot them,” Thrawn rubbed his cheek that turned slightly purple after indelicate touch, and looked at the buildings that surrounded the square. One of them was trice taller than others and was constructed from pure white stone. Above the tall entering arch the bas-relief depicted one more variation of Hess’kela’nuruodo, inviting to come in and recieve the sacraments of the words, attributed to him. Thrawn put his hands together behind his back and smiled with the edges of his lips.

 

“I wonder, what happens now?” Eli asked, raising his sight to the red crystals of statue’s eyes, shining in rays of sun with multiple planes. What happened today didn’t correlate with his custom image of contact with primitive pre-cosmic civilizations, but no fault could be found in captains actions.

 

“A holy war, perhaps. Or, maybe, holy peace,” the Chiss replied and entered the temple, as monumental and strict inside as outside. “Human’s mind is so mobile and chaotic that it depends on which interpretation comes to the mind of their future leader. Only one thing is clear - now they will write many new stories,” he approached the altair bema, in the middle of which on a stone table lied an enormous book. It’s cover was made of white-yellow metal, covered with the same red crystals. “Of a new god,” Thrawn gazed at his aide and smiled a little wider. “And of people that he found worthy to stand by him as equals,” he took the book, weighted it in his hands and moved to carry it conveniently with clear intention to leave the planet with it. “And, if we’re lucky, we will live long enough to read them once.”


	9. Art is... a lie that they want to believe

_ _

 

_ Perfect by nature _

_ Icons of self indulgence _

_ Just what we all need _

_ More lies about a world that _

_ Never was and never will be _

_ Have you no shame don't you see me _

_ You know you've got everybody fooled _

 

_ Evanescence — Everybody’s fool _

  
  


The Thunder Wasp stayed docked to the orbital repair station, and from it’s bridge could be seen the picturesque view of the red-orange gas-giant. Major part of the crew, including commander Cheno, was on a shore leave, leaving the minimal crew to watch over the bridge under command of captain Thrawn. While nothing was happening and was not going to happen in next few hours the officers were ordered to launch additional diagnostics of the ship’s systems, and when there was nothing more to check, some of them just gathered around one’s holoscreens and listened to the news channels. Captain didn’t object - he considered himself capable of watching over the bridge alone.

 

“Patience, ensign Vanto. Three hours more and we can have some rest,” Thrawn answered the untold question which could be read in every yawn of his aide. He couldn’t resist and yawned too into his fist, watching how enormous clouds were colliding below them.

 

“Of which culture will you tell me today?” Eli asked in bored tone, his thoughts were already moved into his quarters, foretasting a slide demonstrations and new quests form captain. 

 

“Are the Mandalorian pin-point tactics exciting enough?”

 

“Of’course!”

 

“We shall look throught the battle at Malakor-5. The Jedi army had significant losses there, despite the support of that… Force.”   
  
“You don’t like the Jedi, do you?”   
  
“I don’t like when flawless tactics is broken with something supernatural. It devalues the warlord’s intellect. Puts those who cannot feel the Force in position of second-rate people. However, it sounds like a challenge for me - to find a way to oppose them, while remaining what I am. And I hope that Mandalorians give me a clue.”   
  
“I wouldn’t be amazed if someone in the Navy thinks you’re some survived Jedi,” Eli smiled slightly. Thrawn only raised one eyebrow to his words and yawned again.

 

“Hey, you there!” unfamiliar male voice with squeaky tones cut the lazy silence on the bridge. “Why aren’t the officers at the battle stations? Now, quickly, simulate some activity!”

 

“What the hell was that?” Vanto turned his head and saw the source of the noise - a Human in civil clothes with a protocol droid following him, carrying a repulsor truck with holofilm equipment.

 

“Ah, yes,” Thrawn explained with slight annoyance, not turning around. “Commander Cheno allowed this journalist to film some material on our bridge because we have the best view here. He’s working for the Senate, so we shouldn’t react on him. Let him do what he needs and quick,” he said a little louder, addressing all the other officers.

 

“I’ve already received the permission from the High Command! Your opinion doesn’t bother me!” the journalist actively moved his hands, enjoying his illusive power on the officers, who knew their duties perfectly without his help. Eli felt almost unbearable wish to beat this man and throw away from the ship, so provocative and unpleasant his behavior was from the very first second of his presence.

 

“Ensign Vanto, let’s pass to the tactical display. That shouldn’t be long,” Thrawn invited, touching his aide’s shoulder, and the sound of his voice casted away the wave of Eli’s anger. He breathed heavily and passed to the closest screen, where in stand-by mode were swimming some rainbow jellyfishes. He made it look like he is very interested with some lacking numbers and bowed to it. Thrawn stood behind his back very close and leaned with his hand on the edge of the display, hiding them both from the trouble maker.

 

“Yes, yes, keep on working! The Imperial Navy isn’t counting nerfs here!” the journalist went on yelling. “TC-40, take the general panorama and move to closer frames.”

 

“What an asshole…” whispered one of the officers.

 

“Now, what’s that?” another scream came out very close and Eli shivered of desire to close his ears. Thrawn’s hand, being in his sight, has noticeably strained. After a second it was rudely pulled aside. “Get away from the frame you blue-skinned freak!”

 

Eli felt blood flowing away from his face. He turned roughly and glanced at the Chiss. Thrawn’s lips were tightly screwed up and trembled with hatred which he couldn’t allow himself to show. His palm, still leaning on aide’s shoulder, clenched, reminding him to preserve his self-control.

 

“Ah, it’s a captain!” the journalist proceeded, like provoking everyone’s aggression was his actual goal. “What a mess is this cruiser! Commander Cheno must have lost his mind to keep such abomination close to him! Ah, to hell with it, will fix it somehow,” he walked off them, rubbing his hand with the edge of his costume with disgust. “Nah, move back, you blue monster. TC-40, have a close-up from here!”

 

Thrawn moved back to previous pose, however now it looked unnatural and constrained. The palm, leaned on the display, clenched into fist so tight it became even more blue due to appeared veins. Yells of the journalist in Eli’s comprehension merged into infinite indistinctive ringing, sounding more disgusting than the battle alert, and for the next few long minutes the only thing that stopped the ensign from an attempt to cast this sith’s spawn out from the bridge was the captain’s heavy breathing in his hair.

 

***

 

Vanto was confused when he didn’t find captain on the bridge when he came for his morning duty. Commander Cheno noticed his glance wandering around faces of the other officers, came closer to him and took him aside.

 

“Wha… what happened?” Eli was amazed with such course of events even more and started to look attentively through the bridge, but everything remained as usual. The Thunder Wasp flew through the hyperspace, sensors detected only insignificant fluctuations, officers were investigating the next route. Nothing unusual - only the Chiss was missing on the bridge, and he didn’t inform Eli, that he wasn’t going to come.

 

“Thrawn asked for a day-off. He… rarely asks of something, so I didn't object. And in fact he… had a reason,” the old commander’s face looked grim and a little guilty.

 

“A reason you’re going to tell me in private?” ensign felt few gazes on him and noticed few officers whispering something to each other behind him. He felt awkward of realizing that everybody knows something he had missed.

 

“Do you remember that journalist from Rotanev-2 station?” a wrinkle between commander’s eyebrows became deeper.

 

“Oh, I’d love to forget it,” Eli shuddered in disgust. While it occurred more than three standard month ago, these unpleasant memories were still bright. That day for the first time he saw how Thrawn changed his plans and preferred a visit to cantina to talks about art. The image of the Chiss, silently devouring hardest alcohol shot after shot without any changes in his face made Eli worried no less than any of their dangerous adventures. It seemed that if any of the cantina visitors would try to approach or to talk to him, he would come up short of few teeth or even limbs. But, fortunately, anything else, besides few awkward falls on their way to quarters, which were witnessed only by Eli, was fine that evening.    
  
“That… movie was edited and put into holonet yesterday. I have no idea, why he watched it…” Cheno shook his head, hiding his eyes under the apron.

 

“It’s Thrawn. He can’t do otherwise, he needs to know everything,” Eli replied, feeling how his heartbeat intensified, and eyesight started to be clouded by rage, like back in that day. “He wouldn’t be himself, if he didn’t…”

 

“You know him better than anyone else, ensign,” commander spoke quieter. “It’s calm on the bridge now. I will give you a day off. Go and comfort him. I don’t want to lose my best tactical officer because of some xenophobic womprat.”   
  
“I am not sure he will want to see me,” Eli swallowed a lump. “I am just… another Human.”

 

“However I insist that you try.”

 

***

 

The door to Thrawn’s quarters that usually opened when ensign Vanto approached turned to be closed. He touched it to make sure, pressed the ring and breathed heavily, not hoping for any response.

 

“Captain, are you there? It’s… it’s me,” he humbly said into the dynamic. “Commander Cheno told me, that you… Kriff, what am I saying…” he pressed his forehead against cool surface of the wall. There still came no sound from the quarters. Vanto bite his lip and breathed deeply again. Situation seemed hopeless, but he didn’t want to give up. A couple of officers passed him by through the corridor, giving him an indifferent glance. When they disappeared from his sight, he decided to try again.

 

“Captain, it’s…” he slapped his forehead. “Damn, wrong again,” he took a deep breath and made sure that no one can hear him, and then started in Sy-bisti. “Thrawn, it’s me. I… came not as your subordinate, but… as a friend. Please, open the door.”

 

The red indication of the entrance panel changed to green, and the door opened. It was uncommonly light and empty inside the captain’s quarters without usual holopictures on the walls. Thrawn was sitting on his bed, dressed only in his underwear. His eyesight was lowered, and from Eli’s side it looked like he was examining his own feet. Eli came closer and sat nearby. Although he saw the Chiss undressed many times while they lived together at the Academy, now, after a while, the view of him caused some new feelings he didn’t know the names of.

 

He moved closer, commonly following his eyesight. There was no trick - Thrawn indeed was looking at himself, wandering from his feet to his palms and then back. His skin was smooth - neither hair, nor chillbumps interrupted it’s texture despite it was rather cold in the quarters. Eli shivered - he felt rather chilly even being fully dressed in that what was Chiss’ comfort temperature.

 

“Tell me, are you embarassed with my skin color?” Thrawn asked in Sy-bisti, finally breaking the silence.   
  
“Oh,” Eli shuddered and looked in other direction immediately. “No, what… of’course not!”

 

“But you do look embarassed very often,” Thrawn stated in calm tone. “You move your eyes away from me, you blush, you shake your shoulders. I look disgusting to you, but you will never confess it even to yourself.”

 

“What?” Eli looked at him, astonished. Usually captain had no mistakes in interpretation of others’ body language, but right now it seemed that emotions that he was trying to hide so hard made him prejudious. There was no other explanation. “No, it’s not the reason”

 

“And what do you think is the reason? Is it your reaction on cold?”   
  
“I like you,” Eli panted without thinking unexpectedly even for himself and shuddered again. Thrawns attentive glance was killing all his attempts of concentration, but he forced himself to proceed. “First you were terribly annoying, but then I knew you better and… you’re an amazing man. I mean… Chiss, yes, I’m sorry. But… you’re not some exotic wonder or a dangerous savage. I like being with you and talking to you, but it’s not because you’re some legendary warrior or… damn, that’s difficult,” he covered his face with his palm. Words that first came so easy suddenly scattered away like mouse-droids that met a Wookie. “But I don’t care what color are you! Although… to be honest…” Eli thought that there was no point to stop when he’d already gone so far. He stroked Thrawn’s shoulder gently, for the first time in a while intruding the Chiss’ personal space by his own initiative. Feeling the heat of his skin and the strengths of the well trained tough muscles under it made his cheeks burn stronger. “I really like your shade of blue.”

 

Thrawn didn’t say a word and turned away from him, taking a pad from his pillow. Eli, embarassed beyond all limits with his own confession now was happy to feel how the chill air touched his face soberingly.

 

“What do you see on this picture?” the Chiss asked in Basic after few seconds of cold silence. Eli raised his eyes and now noticed that the light in the quarters is dimmed again, and another hologram stares at him from the wall.

 

“A young handsome girl is holding a racemation of some berries in her hands and smiling,” he said and coughed twice to clear his throat. Thrawn definitely was feeling better, if he started to talk to him about art again, and that meant that the awkward conversation that took place a minute ago should better be forgotten. “She collected the harvest and she’s satisfied. Looks like an ordinary advertisement holo from some farm. Maybe, it even was made on Lysatra… but no, we don’t have such berries.”

 

“All such posters look similar. Our comprehension reacts positively, when it recieves information in frames of distinct pattern,” Thrawn touched the sensor screen few times and few more holograms appeared on the wall. There were static and mobile images, united with generally positive content. Pleasant colors, beautiful landscapes, smiling faces. “Prosperity. Stability. Friendly people. Promise of delightful rest and qualified employment. Pictures of the world one should be dreaming of. Aspirations, absorbed by the minds that are not used to analyse the incoming information, because they want to believe in this perfect reality. However, the trick is that everything here is lies.

 

“I’d say… it’s politics. In conditions of the after war breakdown commoners need it.”

 

“The war has nothing to do with this,” with another move Thrawn brought the girl with berries up all the other pictures. “This hologram was made at times of the Old Republic. There was a lot of noise around it back in those days, because…” again his fingers ran through the screen, and colors of the image changed dramatically. Juicy green stems became yellow-brown, wide leaves were covered with white mottles, and the berries were covered with ominous spots of mould. The girl also changed: happy shine in her eyes started to look morbid, her lips were not smiling, and all her posture looked like she was crying for help. “Some liars don’t know when to stop.”

 

“But… why?”

 

“You’ve said yourself. Politics. Little lies for elective competition for the senators turned a catastrophe for a colony, situated too far from the Core Worlds. All the galaxy was sure that they prosper, and they… simply starved because all their plants were killed by unknown parasites. Everyone died but this poor girl that could bring the truth to Senate… but too late,” his red eyes focused on the wall, and sincere grief appeared on Thrawn’s face.

 

“You wanted to show me something else, didn’t you? Commander Cheno mentioned… that movie,” Eli humbly mentioned and glanced again at the thin face on the hologram. Suddenly a guess came to his mind, and he felt nauseous. Before Thrawn turned on the movie, he already knew, what was he about to see.

 

Cheerful voice announced of majestic perspectives that opened to every recruit of the Imperial Navy and named the list of possibilities for humans of different talents.

 

Humans.

 

All officers that appeared in this propagative movie were Humans. And when the Thunder Wasp bridge appeared in frame, Eli almost suffocated of helpless rage and offense that devoured him. He saw himself in closeup, standing near tactical display with beautiful view behind transparisteel window at the background. He saw an unfamiliar captain standing by his side. A Human. Tall pink-skinned Human with yellowish-brown eyes, dark hair, grim eyebrows and a smile, as false as the long dead girl had on that damned holopicture. The frame was short, but Thrawn pressed the stop button to let him enjoy every detail.

 

“God… why did they do this?” was the only thing Vanto could say.

 

“I’ve been among the Humans for so long, that sometimes I forget, who am I to all of you. Sometimes I even have… nightmares that I really turned into a Human. I’ve never thought that once these terrible dreams turn into reality,” Thrawn raised his hand in front of him and looked at it, than again at the “correct” version of him.

 

“But anyone who picks the list of the cruiser’s crew will see it’s a lie!”

 

“Nobody will do, Eli. Art that serves politics is a lie, believed by majority without any questions. Search of truth is fate of historians, and they love their job too much to waste time on fight for truth,” Thrawn turned all the holograms off and put the pad away. Silence in semi-dark quarters became heavy again.

 

“When you become a Grand Admiral nobody will dare to do such thing,” Eli muttered quietly. “And I think the white uniform will look perfect with your blue skin,” he proceeded, realizing that his thoughts are bringing him somewhere far away. Somewhere far beyond the reality, where Imperial Propaganda erased captain Thrawn from history.

 

“You do believe I am going to make it?” Thrawn gave him a piercing gaze. His face was serious, but it seemed that a grim shadow moved away from it, and Eli noticed, that a corner of his lip was hiding a grin.

 

“You are a Chiss. In the legends you either reach your goals, or die,” he smiled in response. “And your death is not included in my plans.”

 

Thrawn’s smile became wider. Muscles of his face moved, but Eli didn’t manage to spot it’s changed expression - captain pulled him closer and hugged tightly, leaving him no chance to observe his mimics. But ensign still could feel his breath, touching his neck with ragged hot flows.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered in Sy-bisti. “Thank you, Eli.”


	10. Art is... a weapon you cannot protect from

__

 

_If I risk it all_

_Could you break my fall?_

_How do I live? How do I breathe?_

_When you're not here I'm suffocating_

_I want to feel love, run through my blood_

_Tell me is this where I give it all up?_

_For you I have to risk it all_

_Cause the writing's on the wall_

 

_Sam Smith — Writings on the wall_

  
  


 

That was a disgusting holomovie. Eli couldn’t begin to wonder how Thrawn chose it among all possible options. The idea of visiting a holotheatre on this planet, one more forsaken than his homeworld Lysatra, wasn’t inspiring right from the start. The quality of local holoprojectors had left much to be desired, and the movie assortment consisted of pictures shown in the Core Worlds more than ten years ago, and a couple of regional films, created by efforts of the locals. Thrawn chose something filled with local flavor named “Fluke Holdo” with as ridiculous cover. There was a distinct drunkard bandit on it, holding a self-made blaster in one hand, and holding a pretty Mirialan with another. Even before he looked at the abstract, Eli was sure it was some banal action adventure movie.

 

“Where did they find Mirialans on this forsaken rock?” he asked, observing the mini-copy of the poster on the ticket card.

 

“As we know well, ensign, changing skin color on the holoimage isn’t a big deal.”

 

“I don’t understand you, commander. Clearly, this one is a mediocrity, copying thousands of similar mediocrities. What can it tell you of local culture?”   
  
“Mainly the local values pop up most brightly in such films. It can be seen even on the advertisement sheet,” Thrawn leaned in closer to Eli’s ticket card and pointed his finger to the face of main character. “It can be seen at first sight that the protagonist is a notorious burglar that enjoys all he’s doing. He opposes the corrupted police,” he moved his finger to a figure in uniform, rising above few Republic clone-troopers. “Romps, seduces women, and suddenly his world appears in the middle of the war. And he has to choose between the Republic police he hates and the Separatists.”

 

“And what does he choose?”

 

“If this movie was demonstrated in one of the core worlds, I’d be sure that the character was loyal to the Republic. But we’re quite far from the center, and the girl in his hands brings me to thought that the outcome isn’t so predictable. And also you have to pay attention to the colors of the poster.”

  
  


“Republic soldiers look… cold, grey and faceless. Even the policeman’s face can be barely seen under the apron.”

 

“While the Separatists are bright, colorful individuals. The fact that such movie is presented here and now may be a sign that the Rebels are trying to attract the people of this planet to their side. So in a sense watching this movie is part of our duty here.”

 

Eli had nothing to object, so he decided to accept the necessity of watching the “Fluke Holdo” as another one of Thrawn’s lessons.

 

In the beginning the plot was terribly predictable, a typical personal story of bad good guy developed in each frame, stealing from the rich and caring for the poor between getting drunk in the local cantina. Once, being drunk again, Holdo met a Mirialan that stole his heart, and Eli’s face twisted from how false their relationships looked. Actors were performing terribly, and he caught himself moving his glance to Thrawn’s face, which remained  indifferent in the dim lights of the projector. There was nothing else to look at - the cinema hall was almost empty, besides small group of local youth, located on the other side of it.

 

Somewhere in the middle of the movie the Republic army concentrated it’s forces on the planet’s orbit in order to attack the Separatists cell acting on it. Despite all logic, they took dozen of cruisers, descended a few clone-troopers garrisons and organized a blockade in order to remove only a small squad. Holdo had to choose his side. The Republic demanded him, as an expert in local undergrounds, to betray the Separatists location, promising to leave him and the planet alone. In the opposite case they were going to search in every house and shoot all the possible asylums. In a few words - they were going to devastate the whole planet for a group of rebels.

 

Holdo, who always played to win, at first was almost ready to fulfil their demands, but the Mirialan that stole his heart turned to be one of the Separatists commanders, and an ordinary betrayal turned into betrayal of his beloved one. In this moment characters were most generous on speeches of duty and morality and hypertrophied drama, and Eli, after a heavy breath, looked at Thrawn again. And was immediately petrified.

 

Indifferent to everything that happened before, Chiss suddenly changed his facial expression. Hardly noticeable trembles in his muscles turned more intense, his throat rose and lowered few times, his lips curled in pain. Vanto couldn’t recognize which emotion he was trying to suppress, until after another ragged breath, tears started falling from Thrawn’s eyes.

 

Eli faltered, feeling a chill run down his spine. After more than three years spent by Thrawn’s side he saw him in moments of fatigue, awkwardness, perplexity and discontent in those minimal displays that he allowed his only friend to see. But he had never seen him during such a strong emotional splash. Tears proceeded to flow from his burning eyes, flashing in the beginning of their way like flows of lava, coursing down to neck and absorbing into his collar. Commander Thrawn was not just crying - he was sobbing silently, his all body shaking. Eli forced himself to move back to watching the movie, now possessed by curiousity to understand what caused such reaction for what normally was always the most restrained Chiss.

 

“Whatever choice you make, Holdo, I will not see the next dawn!”

 

“I know, but it is better to better die with you than stay alive knowing that I betrayed you! At least once in my lifetime I should do the right thing!”

 

Vanto shook his head. The very thought of trying to find parallels between Thrawn and the farce happening on the screen seemed blasphemous. His brain refused to analyze the situation, and he agreed to delay the clarification of the details to the moment when they leave the holotheater and remain alone. He proceeded watching at the holograms, but didn’t comprehend what he was looking at.

 

Above the projector a peaceful planet was burning in flames, but Eli didn’t hear the shots and explosions - the only sound for him now was Thrawn’s ragged breath while Chiss proceeded his desperate fight with emerging emotions. After few long minutes it became calm again, and Eli allowed himself to look at the commander.

 

Their eyes met. Traces of tears couldn’t be seen on Chiss’ face, only the wide opened eyes were shining painfully bright.

 

They both remained silent and simultaneously looked back to the projector, displaying a scene whereabove the homeplanet of Holdo, the skies were falling, torn in burning flakes, followed by tragic music and expressive special effects,.

 

***

 

Everything happened very quickly - a request to Imperial Censorship, an order to withdraw Fluke Holdo from the cinema distribution and to realize additional review in colonial government and among the locals. Unlike usual, Thrawn left no comments on his decisions and actions and looked like he wanted to finish this business as soon as he could. Only half an hour after they walked out of the holotheater they left the planet, taking a copy of the now forbidden movie as a trophy.

 

All the way back to the cruiser Thrawn remained silent, and it seemed to Eli that he looked more cold than usually. Later, when he gave his orders on the bridge, it looked like he deliberately acted like his aide never existed and never stood behind him. When bedtime was announced, all the way to their quarters, located on the opposite sides of one corridor and remained silent. The commander would have disappeared without goodbye, but Eli sneaked into his quarters before the door closed.

 

“Thrawn, what’s going on?” he asked impatiently and pulled his shoulder. The Chiss turned roughly and barely strained tension could be seen in trembling of his lips.

  
  


“Ensign, why are you here?” he tried to speak calmly, but the tones of his voice betrayed him. “You do have your own quarters.”

 

“I’ve seen you crying,” Eli spoke in a haste, realizing that otherwise Thrawn would catch him again in the web of his evasive words and lead away from the answer. “Don’t try to deny it - your eyelids are still red-rimmed.”

 

“You were to be watching the projector.”

 

“I didn’t have to watch to know what was happening there. But… why did this vulgar drama cause so many emotions in you?”

 

“Eli… don’t,” he proceeded in Sy-bisti, evidently in attempt to hide the emerging accent.

 

“You always reach your goals, whatever the cost. So why should I be different?”   
  
“Please, stop,” Chiss’ voice trembled.

 

“If there is something in this universe that can hurt you so much, I must know, what should I protect you from!” Eli yelled and was startled by his own words that came out before he could truly consider them. His heart skipped a bit when variations of Thrawn’s possible reactions to his words passed before his eyes. Anger? Laughter? Cold silence again? It seemed all similar terrible, but he didn’t want to retreat.

 

“You cannot protect me from art,” Thrawn only lowered his glance. “You never know where you find the ultimate joy, and where you step on broken glass with bare feet. It was… just an unpleasant coincidence.”

 

“You’re doing it again,” Eli started to fill with anger. His pulse intensified, blood flowed to his cheeks, his breath becoming stunted. “Trying to screw me up with those general sentences. But you’ve taught me to analyze. You… saw something in this moron Holdo, something from your past, or from the future…”

 

“Why did I make you so stubborn,” Thrawn murmured in the middle of the ragged flow of Eli’s speech and shook his head.

 

“Your reaction only confirms that I came clo…” Eli couldn’t finish. Something robbed him of his breath. He opened his eyes wide in amazement and realized that there were Thrawn’s lips on his lips, letting him neither to speak, nor to breath, nor to think. It was so unexpected that he couldn’t remember that he still had his nose to breathe in, and he just stood still, looking at thin stripes of red light, emerging from under the Chiss’ eyelids, and listening to the noise of blood in his temples. 

 

By the moment Thrawn released him Eli forgot everything he wanted to say. He breathed in heavily, stupefied, and touched his lips with his fingers, checking if the warmth that remained on them, was real. It was too much. Too unexpected to comprehend at the moment. But the seconds passed and the pieces of the puzzle moved to their places, and the uncovered truth devoured him into waves of new emotions, overloading his perception. The features of the Chiss started to melt and shatter before his eyes, and weakness filled Eli’s body.

 

“You have your answer. Now go to your quarters,” Thrawn ordered in dry and quiet tone in Basic, but his words slipped from the ensign’s comprehension. Eli turned pale and began to fade to black, so he couldn’t hear him anymore. Only his lips moved, and they were whispering silently.   
  
“Please, don’t send me away…”

 

***

  
  


Eli woke up in his quarters after few hours. His clothes were folded neatly near his pillow, and he himself, it seemed, had slept the whole night in one pose without moving. He couldn’t recall how he got into bed, or all that was before. All the memories of his past day were fragmented and tinged with painful understatement.

 

“How are you feeling, ensign?” Thrawn asked him after reaching him on his way to the bridge. The Chiss himself looked crumpled and his face fell as if he had a sleepless night. “You were terribly pale yesterday.”

 

“Yesterday…” Eli frowned and rubbed his nose, but it didn’t help to return the forgotten day. “Something must have knocked my memory out. Was there something important? I hardly remember anything after when we were watching some awful holomovie…”

 

“Oh, it wasn’t worth remembering, definitely,” Thrawn chuckled. “Fortunately it was terrible enough to make the Imperial censorship remove it. But I took one copy as a trophy.”

 

“Ah, and you were talking something about art… that sometimes it hurts,” Eli shrugged awkwardly. Indeed, Thrawn always was talking about art. “Forgive me, sir, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It seems I need a shore leave.”

 

“I’ve already sent a request to the Command about giving us a vacation. I… also feel a little exhausted myself.”

 

“Where you go I go?” asked Eli half-jokingly.

 

“You don’t have to be my aide-translator in your free time now that I speak Basic well enough. You could… see your family. You haven’t gone to visit them for so many years because of me. Or… you may go to some resort and look for some more suitable company.”

 

“Oh no, Thrawn, you won’t get rid of me that easy!” Eli put his hand on Thrawn’s shoulder. “The galaxy will become unbearably boring if I can’t hear your voice.” 

 

“But you wanted to get rid of me so much,” Thrawn said quietly, looking into his eyes with a query. Despite being much taller than him, now the Chiss seemed looking up at Eli from below.

 

“That was another me three years ago,” the ensign smiled, astonished deep inside by how far away and surreal his own past seemed now to be for him, though it was quite recent.

 

“And… where would you like to go, ensign?” Thrawn’s face became smooth again, and the corners of his lips lifted in his usual unreadable smile.

 

“Recently you’ve mentioned some digging site on Rishi.”

 

“They must have dug out all the interesting stuff out by this time. I think we’d better go directly to the Nar-Shadaa market, the best antiques sellers gather there. A lot things to see and to analyze.”

 

“Sounds great!”

 

“And dangerous. You truly don’t want to visit Lysatra?”

 

“Oh no. I won’t leave you even if they offer me to become a grand-admiral.”

 

“Even if the High Command ordered you?” a wrinkle between Thrawn’s eyebrows became deeper, and Eli caught a deja vu and missed the question for a moment. Something indeed had happened yesterday, but his memory refused to comply with anything but emotions, unclear as a scream, shining out from behind a dusty transparisteel window.

 

“They won’t do it. You have…” he faltered, feeling a chill of unsure, “...asked the Emperor himself to make me stay with you.”

  
“That’s correct,” Thrawn’s face became smooth again, and he looked like some strain left his body. “In this case, we should investigate the route.”


	11. Art is... a memory that became eternal

_ _

 

_ I'll never get over what we said _

_ It lingers in my head _

_ I'll always remember what we knew _

_ One hundred percent to be true _

 

_ To be right _

_ To be real _

_ Set in stone _

_ And cast in steel _

 

_ A-ha — Cast in steel _

  
  


“Will we be waiting for them… here?” asked Eli awkwardly, shivering on the unpleasent feeling that somebody was watching them. They were standing in the middle of a large and ancient Nelindari Necropolis where, as commodore Thrawn was sure, was hidden the secret asylum of a rebel cell and a weapin hideout. Star destroyer was still in orbit, and stormtroopers were patrolling the city, so he had no doubt that the terrorists will gather at the graveyard and try to lie low.

 

Twilights were only coming, but here, in the shadows of the statues and overgrown trees it seemed that the night was already around. Commodore Thrawn and lieutenant-commander Vanto hid among a group of funerary monuments making it almost impossible to see them from the outside. There were only two of them, because they decided that a full squad would be noisy and may scare away the prey.

 

“A graveyard is a perfect place to hide on Nelindar. Nelindari are very passionate about their burial rituals, and it is hardly possible for one of them to decide to make a hideout in such place,” Thrawn nodded on one of the monuments - tall faceless figure in a cape with three pairs of wings and an ingenious weapon in it’s hand. “They respect their dead and fear their anger. But our terrorists are not Nelindari.”

 

“To be honest, I’ve never understood, what’s all this noise about a dead body? It’s like… he doesn’t care now.”

 

“But the living often need to prolong the illusion that the one who passed away proceeds to exist somewhere nearby.”

 

“But there are datacrons. Some of them can simulate a person you’re talking to very good.”

 

“Datacron is only a data compilation. When you create it, you can’t demonstrate your personal feelings to the one you’re trying to recreate. Funeral rituals may tell many things about the specifics of perception of either unique persons, either of whole races.

 

“Ah, I see. Another kind of art,” Eli chuckled.

 

“Precisely,” Thrawn gently touched his shoulders, inviting him to look more attentively at one of the sculptures. That one was lower than human’s height and depicted two young ladies, standing in the middle of a tombstone. They were holding each other’s hands and almost touched each other’s foreheads. Unlike most of necropolis’ sculptures this one was cast in metal and covered with gilding, glittering in last lights of the dusk. “For example, what would you say of this one, lieutenant-commander?”

 

“This one is… smaller then the others. The one who ordered it must have done it personally on his money and he was the only one who cared about this funeral,” he felt slight embarassment from watching at such intimate gesture cast in metal for so long. “Perhaps, he gave everything he had, because losing this man made his life pointless. And, most likely, he desired to be buried under the same tombstone.”

 

“She,” Thrawn corrected. “They both are women. According to dates, she lived less then a year after her beloved died.”

 

“Oh that… sounds so sad and beautiful at the same time,” Eli admitted. “Perhaps I’ve never understood it because I’ve never been really attached to someone?”

 

Thrawn remained silent and looked at the movement detector that traced their location from space. Now, beside them and a bunch of small animals, there was noone at the graveyard. Twilight became darker, and Vanto felt it more difficult to withstand the silence, because every rustle made it seem to him that the sculptures become living and moving...

 

“Er, do Chiss have any funeral rituals?” he asked the first thing that came to his mind and immediately blamed himself. Thrawn was rarely willing to share anything about his people.”

 

“Uh?”

 

“I just thought… great warriors must be very foreign to such things. At least there is nothing about it in the legends.”

 

“At times of the great cold we were burning the bodies of the dead to stay warm. That was part of our struggle to survive, before the mutations made us stronger. However, after thousands of years many powerful families created personal underground labyrinths where they place their honored dead frozen in ice plates. The more ancient and powerful the family is, the larger, the deeper and the more complex is the labyrinth.”   
  
“So it’s like… a big graveyard is more a demonstration of social status, not of personal attitude to the dead.”

 

“In a sense, yes. And the honor to be buried in such a graveyard is not given to every family member, you have to deserve it.”

 

“Serve the Ascendancy well - your body will be frozen and honorably demonstrated to all people. Otherwise - you’re biofuel. Social motivation. Did I get it right?

 

“Quite right.”

 

“So that means you too will be…” Eli suddenly saw this image painfully clear: Thrawn, a bit older than now, dressed in white grand-admiral uniform, frozen in eternity under twenty-centimeter layer of ice. He boggled, burned with indifferent and merciless cold of death that touched him only for a moment, though it wasn’t real. The very thought of the finitude of existence never scared him before because he never considered it separately from himself, and his own life almost had no value for him. “Dammit, I… don’t want to think of your death.”

 

“I am exiled, Eli,” the Chiss reminded with a bitter smile and looked at the detector again. “I don’t even have the right to burn in the atmosphere of my homeworld.”

 

“Forgive me, sir. I shouldn’t have… asked it at all,” Eli screwed his lips and became even more angry with himself. Suddenly Thrawn roughly pressed his palm against Eli’s lips and forced him to sit near him on a tombstone behind them.

 

“Stay silent. Don’t move,” he whispered an order and pressed Eli’s face to his chest with his nose on Thrawn’s officer’s plaque tightly with both of his hands. Eli froze obediently and tried to hold his breath. A sound of dimmed voices came from nearby, and a round of light from a flashlight touched the ground.

 

“All clear, there’re no Imps here!” someone said very close to them and hasty steps sounded around. Vanto couldn’t see them, but he felt them right behind his back, so close, that someone’s breath even touched him. “Hey, girls, slide over a little!” a noise of moving tombstone emerged. Eli swallowed quietly and unconsciously pressed even more tightly into Thrawn, so that he could hear his heavy but calm heartbeat.

 

“Oh god, I swear I’ve seen this statue’s eyes shining!” another voice yelled chockingly.”

 

“Leeroy, put your doubts into the rancor’s arse. We’re not on Korriban to be afraid of the ghosts here. Move on!”

 

Soon the steps faded. Thrawn took a deeper breath and released Eli’s head to take his comlink.

 

“Besh and Dorn squads, terrorists are located, move to my position. The entrance to their asylum is under the grave of Amanda ana Ayla Delaris.”

 

“Orders recieved, sir,” replied the voice from the comlink.

 

“I don’t know why, but… I feel so offended for these ladies now, although I never knew them,” Eli confessed, unwillingly feeling the presence of long dead people - not as some ghosts, but as misunderstood feelings, cast in metal. “Did they just… discard them?”   
  


“Most likely. Terrorists, as a rule, have nothing to lose but their own lives, so the memories and the art of the others for them is just some trash on their way.”

 

“If their bodies are in the ground no more… will you take them from here?”

 

“Do you like them?” Thrawn asked and looked at him with a smile.

 

“I… definitely feel something for them,” Eli smiled in response.


	12. You are... my art.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written along with beautiful instrumental composition Epitaph by God is an Astronaut. 
> 
> And a very sketchy sketch here to add cuteness in this sad chapter: https://pp.userapi.com/c847217/v847217449/b8515/SlcQvkISSd0.jpg

_ _

 

_ Is this the time and place? _

_ The day I knew would come? _

_ The very last embrace _

_ United as we part _

 

_ The loneliest of looks _

_ A smile that I adore _

_ I turn around to go _

_ Feel shaken to the core _

 

_ Diary of dreams — Undividable _

  
  


It happened. Eli didn’t know, what he was feeling right now, but he remembered well the path he went from total disbelief in the very possibility of such assumption and doubts to sudden faith, and then to confidence that it may not not happen. The only thing to do was to apply some patience and zeal, and as a result the rank that many couldn’t achieve even after dozens of years of loyal service to the Empire came into hands of an alien, risen with the wind of unexpected victories.

 

Commander Vanto prepared his gift a year ago. Half of a year before that he was trying to find it - that very thing, in that very form, - and gave almost all his savings to obtain it, hoping that noone was checking his accounts. All the remained time he spent in inpatient waiting, hoping, that he guessed right and there was nothing like this in Chiss’ large collection. However, he was almost sure, that there wasn’t.

 

The door of Thrawn’s quarters, as always, slided aside before him, and Eli recalled all the rooms where Chiss had to spend his nights in before, starting from the cell on Strikefast. Then Vanto was forced to be by his side, and after that in the Academy, and even onboard of Blood Raven where they shared a tiny room. Back then it was constraining, now he caught himself often on the feeling he missed that neighbourhood. Now Thrawn’s apartments were big enough to house all his previous alltogether and there’d be enough place for Eli’s own quarters that, as if due to some mistake, was situated further through a wall.

 

“Thrawn, are you there?” Eli asked, gently knocking on the halfopened door to his bedroom.

 

“Yes, I’ve been expecting you.”

 

“Oh, I…” Vanto couldn’t hide his silly smile and looked inside the room. Thrawn was standing in front of the mirror with his hands behind his back. New white uniform was looking so natural on him that it seemed he’d been wearing it forever. “I wanted to congratulate you, grand-admiral.”

 

“Thank you, commander,” Thrawn turned slowly to him and smiled, but for a moment Eli noticed some weird strain in his features. He’d noticed it before, but couldn’t find an explanation. All the cautious questions received different answers, but commander felt that something kept evading from him. Something that made small wrinkles settle in the corners of red eyes forever - somehow he was sure there was nothing about aging here. “Without you my path would have been much longer.” 

 

“This uniform looks like it was designed specially for you. I believe even Iskelan didn’t look so good.”

 

“Oh, Eli, you’re flattering me. However, considering the rank of Hess’kela’nuruodo he shouldn’t have been wearing white at all.

 

“Grand admiral, I’ve prepared something for you,” blood flushed to commander’s face, and all the speech he prepared started to shatter before being spoken. “For this very day. I thought… it’d be…” he shook his head and rose a small square container in his hands. “Forgive me, I don’t have your eloquence, but I thought that it’d be very symbolic, and… All right, I give up. Open it.”   
  
Thrawn took the container and weighted it in his hands.

 

“Looks like it’s a datapad. A little more heavy than standard model, that means it’s either something special, or… very ancient,” his eyes blinked a little brighter and he opened the cover. “Oh my, it’s older than three thousands years! Eli, that…” he lowered and frowned his eyebrows, “must’ve been very expensive.”

 

“I could afford it,” commander was staring at him anticipatingly, trying to catch and remember every move of his face. Thrawn rose his eyes on him, then lowered back to the pad, then rose again, his mimics were changing so quick that they were almost impossible to read for sure. He was clearly interested, but awkwardly embarrassed at the same time. Eli wasn’t sure, but he enjoyed watching and analyzing him - just like Thrawn himself taught him.

 

“I should compensate it somehow,” grand-admiral activated the main screen and read the emerged title. “Fairy-tale archetypes since the times of early colonization to present days”, by… Yll’aras’xel,” now that was clear amazement combined with excitement.

 

“Yes, I’ve checked it out. He was a Chiss indeed, so there are also your variations of common fairy-tales.”

 

“The Yll family died out more than four thousands years ago. Yll’aras… was the last of them and he was exiled. This is the only thing mentioned on him in our history,” Thrawn touched the side of datapad gently and rose and unreadable glance on Eli again. “Thank you, commander. How did you find it?”

 

“As you well know, I am capable to process large amounts of information. It took some time, but I found it and… was very amazed when I saw the author’s name.”

 

“You’re starting to spot the things that I miss,” Thrawn smiled and shook his head. He laid his gift on the mirror shelf and looked into Eli’s eyes. “It looks like I’ve got nothing more to teach you.”

 

“I’ve taught you everything I could five years ago but remained your…”

 

“Oh, commander, I still can’t get the sense of some phrases that Humans say. But it shouldn’t be an obstacle for your growth.”

 

“Considering your new rank - you can make me whatever you want,” Eli came half of a step closer. “However my present role won’t change. I have been your friend for all these years, and I don’t want to be anyone else.”

 

“I recall Humans have a tradition… to celebrate such things like promotion?” Thrawn took a beautifully ornamented bottle with metallic decorations from bedside table. “Grand-moff Tarkin presented this liqueur to me. He told that he distilled it by himself at his family mansion.”

 

“Tarkin? Wow. It should be very strong one.”

 

“Let’s check it out,” he quickly unsealed the plug and breathed in the aroma of the spirit. “Strong one indeed,” he said, touched a drop of liqueur and passed it to Eli. “But the taste is interesting.”

 

“But… how about glasses?”

 

“Are you squeamish?”

 

“Not really,” commander tried the liqueur and frowned of how strong it was. “Not bad indeed. Even almost not bitter,” he looked at Thrawn’s face again. The Chiss remained silent, and wrinkles around his eyes became deeper. “Hm, all right. Here’s for the loyal servant of the Galactic Empire grand-admiral Mitth’raw’nuruodo!” he raised the bottle and made a gulp, a little bigger than he was going to. The strength of the liquor made him frown and screw up his eyes, but he could fight the rejection of his stomach and made himself swallow everything, straining the reflex to cough back immediately. 

 

Thrawn took the bottle from him and repeated his gesture. The strength of the drink didn’t seem to bother him.

 

Alcohol packed a punch on Eli quickly. He rarely allowed himself to drink and he never drank something that strong, so he couldn’t follow it’s effects on his mind. His internal limits, built by either subordination, or ordinary shy, started to fall one by one, and it took time for him to realize he was just staring on Thrawn’s face for more than a minute.

 

“Oh, fogive me, sir, I… am so weak to alcohol,” he touched his burning cheeks in embarrassment. 

 

“What a pity. I wanted to drink in your honor as well.”

 

“Oh, I…” Eli laughed. “Then you’re to carry me to my quarters!”

 

“I can handle this. It’s not the first time.”

 

“Really? I don’t remember such thing.”

 

“It’s all right, you were unconscious,” something was wrong again, but the mist risen in Eli’s mind didn’t allow him to catch it. “Here’s to Eli Vanto, my loyal aide and the best friend.” Thrawn threw his head back and pressed the bottleneck to his lips for quite a while. Eli couldn’t help chuckling.

 

“Will there be anything for me there?”

 

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”

 

Commander accepted the liqueur from Thrawn’s hand and gulped more than he was going to again, but the second portion didn’t burn his throat as painfully as the first one. However he noticed, that the weight of the bottle didn’t change almost since the previous time it was in his hands.

 

“It’s so weird. Tarkin gave you such a unique thing, and you’re drinking it here with me just the same day…”

 

“Unfortunately some pieces of art cannot be preserved. It is pointless to place them in stasis and put on a shelf. Their beauty is in their persistent movement towards perfection, unbreakably bond with upcoming death. Long-term conservation destroys everything beautiful in them.

 

“You’re not talking about... alcohol now, are you?”

 

“Of’course not. I just… thought of how beautiful this moment is. But even if I could stop the time, it’d be pointless, because all it’s beauty and it’s terror is in the fact that…” his voice faded a little, “it’s coming to it’s end.”

 

“You’re talking some weird stuff. But I’m used to it.”

 

“As you are, Eli,” Thrawn stretched his hand and touched Eli’s cheekbone with his fingertips. His words started flowing from his lips unusually fast and nervous. “You’ll stop being who you are if you’re frozen in carbonite and hanged on the wall. You will wither and fade, if you remain in my shadow. Being by your side right now and looking at you, knowing every detail of your personality, every path, that your thoughts are moving through - is the best reward for me, but you’ve grown out of this role.” 

 

“I… don’t like where you’re going. If I can understand anything right now.”

 

“Nevermind.”

 

“Grand admiral, if you want to transfer me to the other ship I strenuously object!”

 

“But in case of disobedience I may claim you a deserter, arrest you and strip of your rank,” he approached, and shadow of his face stole the lighting of he room. “Doesn’t it bother you?”

 

“No. You will place me into detention room, and I’ll become your eternal prisoner, because you can’t give me to anyone else, it’s too dangerous for you. Your enemies in the Navy will torture me to find your weakness. You will have to either punish me, or forgive me and accept my choice,” Eli moved forward, and Thrawn’s palm covered his cheek as he stepped closer. “You cannot execute me for willing to stay by your side.”

 

“You know me too well, commander,” Thrawn bowed closer to his face and faded down to whispering. There were now less than two centimeters between them. “Looks like I have to retreat to reconsider my strategy.”

 

“That means I will keep constant vigilance,” Eli said, meanwhile he could think only of Chiss’ hot breathing that embraced his skin, and of his own desire to touch his lips with his lips. He closed his eyes. Thrawn’s words about the finitude of the moments, pronounced minutes ago, resonated inside him with a thought that he was almost ready to pray to make this moment eternal.

 

“You’ve lost it already.”

 

The kiss was like solar eclipse - almost imperceptible touch approached and covered him unavoidably and possessive and held him in it’s capture, before every Eli’s thought and every Eli’s feeling concentrated on the surface of contact of their skins. Then it consequently started to move away, raising a wave of protest in commander’s mind, but the palm, still lying on his face, held him off the impulse to move forward and turn the events back.

 

Accelerated heartbeat made his mind more sober for a moment, and Eli caught a deja vu again. Like something like this happened before, but it seemed very different. Getting more and more drunk with bittersweet liqueur, he didn’t feel anything wrong about what was happening. As if it meant to happen like this according to another perfectly designed scenario. Like he indeed had his right to be happy, and his happiness meant to be like this.

 

He glanced back at Thrawn and only now felt how dizzy he was. Trying to hold his balance Eli stumbled and fell to the floor. World started turning around him faster, but something interrupted his fall, and he didn’t realize how he found himself in grand-admiral’s hands and reflectively embraced his neck.

 

“Oh, I… I warned you,” he laughed again.

 

Thrawn carried him away from the quarters and moved through the corridors of star destroyer, empty after the curfew. They walked for quite a while, but Eli didn’t even try to understand where they were with similar walls around them and preferred to look either at Chiss’ face, or at the ceiling, where lighting panels rarely passed them by. For a moment he closed his eyes, surrendered to the weakness, pulling him into sleep.

 

He woke up when sound of Thrawn’s steps disappeared, and the moment after his body was placed on something soft and pleasantly cooling. He opened his sleepy eyes - the room around him was as grey as every other room on the ship, but a feeling of some mistake moved in him.

 

“Thrawn, are you sure this is my bed?” he murmured, blinking slowly in ineffective attempts to see anything above him but the figure in white tunic with grey ceiling behind it.

 

“No, I’m not. I’ve also drank a lot.”

 

“Oh, stop it,” Eli laughed. For some reason after being put in horizontal position he felt even more disoriented and didn’t try to object, when Thrawn tried to move him in a more convenient pose. Interrupted sleep implacably pulled him back, allowing to hold on to reality only with an edge of his conscious. “You didn’t even make a gulp. I’ve seen it. Why did you make me drunk?”

 

“I wanted you to smile.”

 

“I thought I’m smiling too often and out of place even when sober.”

 

“Eli… can you promise me something?”

 

“For you - I’ll do anything. In frames of my modest abilities.”

 

“You’re able to do more, than you think. However… it won’t be simple.”

 

“So what is it?”

 

Thrawn bent over him as close as possible to his face, pressed Eli’s cheek with his cheek, touched Eli’s ear with his lips.

 

“Take care of yourself,” he whispered and put his palm on Eli’s chest. “Will you promise?”

 

“Of’course. I promise you… to take care of myself.”

 

“Whatever comes next,” he put the fingers of the other hand into shaggy dark Eli’s hair and stroke them to his nape.

 

“Whatever comes next,” Eli replied almost unconsciously and inertially repeated his gesture, awkwardly ruining Thrawn’s laying and causing few lock of dark-blue hair fall on his face. “But why are you… asking of it?”   
  
“Because the Tyrant’s heart is beating inside your chest.”

 

***

 

When Eli woke up it was unusually dark and quiet around. He groped himself and realized that he didn’t undress before sleep, even his boots were still on him. Despite the strong liqueur he drank yesterday, his thoughts were perfectly clear, as well as the memories of what happened before he fell asleep. He touched his lips in the darkness - now the kiss wasn’t an illusion and was preserved in his memory on all layers of comprehension.

 

“Light.”

 

Unfamiliar containers by the wall, couple of lighters on the ceiling. That definitely wasn’t his quarters. He was on board of a shuttle.

 

Eli’s heart skipped a beat, and for few seconds he forgot how to breathe. Questions and answers flew through his mind with unbelievable speed, and he could quickly count the most valid of them. When he could finally breathe in, instead of an exhale a painful howl bursted out of him. Eli covered his mouth with his palm, as if he was scared of the sound of his own voice. Few times he inhaled and exhaled slowly and forced himself to sit.

 

“Thrawn, are you… are you there?” he called in irrational hope, while his mind already calculated how insignificantly low was the probability of his presence onboard. Eli didn’t want to be right. He wanted to make a mistake, he wanted the probability theory, combined with psychology, to fail him right now, but the silence that responded him was only a cruel confirmation.

 

Noone was there. He was alone and he’d been flying through hyperspace for a few hours already.

 

Wambling he passed to the door leading to the bridge and opened it. Before his eyes behind transparisteel windows flew flashes of white-blue. He knew that he was going to see it, but his heart skipped a beat again, forcing him to inhale painfully. Eli felt weakness in his knees and lowered to the floor leaning against the door buck.

 

“Why,” he moaned quietly, pressing his jaw with his palm, trying to stop trembling of tears that were trying to burst out. He screwed his eyelids, and the moist that overfilled his eyes flowed through cheeks. 

 

“Why?” he yelled, not restraining himself anymore. Noone could see his pain now beside him. Vanto braced his shoulders and pressed his forehead against the floor while standing on hid knees. 

 

“Why? Why did you do this to me?”

 

He breathed deeply and quickly, repeating his question on every exhale. After a while the pain didn’t fade, but either he was tired of yelling, or he got used to it enough to think of something else.

 

“It… had to be done,” he whispered with his lips only. “This… was the most logical solution,” he set his jaw, dropping some more tears. They were falling on polymer floor with a sound that reminded him of the music of starting rain. He hoped that logical conclusions, being pronounced aloud, would calm him at least a little, but his own words, reflected from the grey empty walls, only cut Eli in small parts. Before his mind’s eye he could see red eyes burning, awaking the half-forgotten images, hanging between dreams and reality, where for some unknown reasons Thrawn himself was suffocating with his own tears almost like Eli was now. 

 

“You cannot allow me to stay by your side anymore…” he put out his hand, imagining himself touching Thrawn’s skin. “Before everyone’s eyes…” memories passed one by another, demonstrating the moments of happiness, sadness and doubts. “It would put me in danger, and you, and everything that you… that we’ve achieved. There is only one place… that you consider… reliable enough to make me stay there forever. And you… yourself…” the picture of shining dots came to his memory and fractured and transformed into a whirl of tiny sharp shards of ice that flew into Eli’s face, “...will never... come... back there.”

 

He swallowed the new wave of sobbing, slowly coming to his throat and find enough strength within to rise up and pass to the pilot’s seat. There was an announcement on screen that informed that controls were blocked until the shuttle reaches the set coordinates. Eli looked at the numbers and clearly imagined this place on the galaxy map - deep in the Unknown Regions, in places which were known only in legends even to people of the Wild Space. Legends from which a blue-skin warrior bursted into his life and ruined piece by piece everything that had a meaning for young cadet Vanto that only dreamed of becoming a supply officer. He touched his officer’s plaque - now, for sure, in official reports he was already claimed a deserter, rebel sympathizer that moved to their lines. He himself didn’t know now who he was. 

 

“You took everything from me, and gave only yourself in exchange. Why… why do I now have to lose even this…?”

 

The pain changed into emptiness and indifference. Eli sat still, staring at the numbers that were changing on the screen as an only asylum for him from his own mind. He almost laid against the console with his face, and there he noticed a small round of portative holocom left on one of the levers.

 

When he activated it, a tiny holographic Thrawn appeared in his hands. He was already dressed in his white tunic that meant that the message was recorded not further than yesterday. Maybe even minutes before Eli entered his quarters with the gift.

 

_ “Commander Vanto, if you are displaying this message that means you have already flown far enough. Do not try to stop the shuttle or turn it back - if it returns to the Empire territory it will be attacked as the one hijacked by the rebels. It is programmed to bring you to the borders of the Chiss Ascendancy. You will be waited there. I am sure, you will get on well with my people and uncover your potential better than you could ever do it within the Empire.” _

 

Eli touched the image with his fingers. He almost didn’t perceive the words Thrawn spoke, but it didn’t matter - he already knew everything that he could and should have said.

 

_ “I have copied my diary for you. I’ve been writing it since the very day you gave me a pad for my learning. You have a long and uneasy way to go - you may consult it if you need my advice. All your belongings were packed into those containers. On the other holocom I left the data and a message for admiral…”  _ grand-admiral interrupted and turned back, hearing something outside the holo.

 

_ “Thrawn, are you there?” _ Eli heard his own muted voice and the holoimage disappeared. Left to face silence and loneliness alone againhe pressed a button again, hoping to bring it back. The holocom played another message. Now the miniature Thrawn was sitting in a chair - that very chair where Eli was sitting in now. It was difficult to see his facial expression through the static, but it could be seen that he himself was like bent under an invisible burden.

 

_ “Eli,” _ the hologram said and silenced. Although the record was made hours ago, Vanto shivered as if Thrawn addressed him here and now, expecting for the reply.

 

“Yes, sir,” he said, feeling hot teardrops leaving wet traced on his face again. “I remember. I’ve… promised you. I won’t do anything stupid.”

 

_ “Together we have seen so many worlds and spoke of almost every kind of art. However, I’ve never told you…”  _ the hologram rose it’s head, and Eli felt the glance of shining eyes on himself.

 

“How… how are you doing it…”

 

_ “I know you. I know everything you can do and everything you can tell,”  _ Thrawn put his hand up and forwards and opened his palm, and Eli gently took it in his fingers. “ _ Perhaps I know you better than you ever did. For all these years I was doing my best to release you from this stone, wash you of dirt of fears and prejudices. Now you are free, and… I have never told you… Eli, you…” _

 

“I…”

 

_ “Are…” _

 

“Am…”

 

_ “My…” _

 

“Your…”

 

_ “Art.” _

 

“Art.”

 


End file.
